Riches

It seems I am always complaining 

About one little thing or another

I stubbed my toe, I broke my wrist

It’s tough being wife and mother

 

If the truth can be told . . .

And I’m good at this

My complaints can all fit

On one short list

 

I love my husband

More than I can tell

Whoever picked him

Did the job well.

 

I only have one child

Left to raise

She good, she’s wonderful,

Worthy of praise

 

The grown kids have,

As you might guess

Lives of their own now

I must confess

 

I’m proud of them all

Young and old

They’re my kids

And I’ll be bold

 

No grandkids are smarter

Or cuter - not one

If they were closer

We’d have lots of fun

 

So when I’m grumpy

And starting to bitch

Remind me, dear friends

That I’m rich, oh! So rich!

 

Thanks to the Lord

Who loves us so

I have these riches

Wherever I go.

 

Penny