Ode To My Mum

Like a few others in the world,

I was born of woman.

My mother, though,

Goes by the name of 'Karen Sweet'.

If she were on 'Mothering on Ice',

Her score would come up 'elite'.

I'm as grateful now, as I was back then,

When feeding from her teat.

Now,

We may get annoyed at her being a mother,

At times, my brother and I.

When she faffs over me,

Or watches crap TV,

I just want to break down and cry.

And when I was little I was always amazed at

Just everything my mother knows,

But now I'm away I'm mostly amazed at how hard it is

To wash my own clothes.

My mum may get sad at at us being grown up,

Not young or playing with toys.

But she knows very well, that no matter our age

We will always be 'her little boys'.

So for me, with my mother,

There can be no other – to have her is my

Worldliest Treat.

I just have to say that,

This rose by another name,

Will always be my mum,

Karen Sweet.