Bonefish, I love a good poem as much as anyone I guess, and you were talking about your mother, sorry about your mother, my mother is 80 and blind, I try and visit her as often as I can, I took her breakfast and talked a couple hours with her this morning, I know my mothers life almost as good as she knows herself, as she gets older she tells me the same thing over and over, this morning she was telling me that, all the people she went to school and new growing up, all were dead but one, it's a sad thing to think you will out live everyone you new as a young person. speaking about mothers and reading your poems, reminds me of a poem I learned about 40 some years ago, don't know the name of it or who wrote it, but I remember the poem, and I think I'll share it with you all.



I stopped in front of a little church, as I was passing by.
the door was open, it was almost dark and I could hear a voice from inside.
there a man was Praying, and i remember his every word and as I stood and listen closely this is what i heard.
he said I don't want to be a bother Lord, but I sure am feeling blue.
reckon you could change your schedule just a little bit, and call me on home to.
you see I'm so lonesome without her Lord, I don't know what in the world I'm going to do.
so if it's all the same with you Lord, would you just call me on home to.
then through the shadows the old man walked, slowly down the steps.
then feebly through the churchyard, leaning on his cane for help.
and as he tried to kneel again, he feel across a grave so new.
the Lord had heard his humble prayer, and called him on home to.
I often go back to that little church, where I kneel and say a prayer.
and I place flowers on those two graves, where he rest beside her there.
and as I thank my God for the two best friends, I ever had.
my tears flow freely on those two graves, one my Mother and the other my Dad.