Mothers are the font of life,
They heal your pains,
They deal with strife.
Our jobs (as offspring) so it would seem,
Is to learn from Mothers,
What love should mean.
Above all things that we can do,
Is share that love,
With folks like Blue.
He gives his all most every day,
Through good and bad,
Has lots to say.
We know he is a goodly son,
For taking time,
With every one.
We gladly offer this time we pray,
For we hear your sadness,
In what you say.
Know then, that we'll do our parts,
Your fears and grief,
Are in our hearts.
Our love and prayers go out to you,
Beloved Mother,
Of our Blue.
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I AM just a simple man,
Whose words may wander,
Without a plan.
I hoped to offer strength today,
My words are often,
Gone astray.
Mark W. Farrell