© ca 1959 Barbara Grace Lake

 

The faith of a boy in his mom is a joy
When his plans for the day he will share
As she dutifully heeds every mutable need
Making sure that she truly does care

 

To his frog she’ll be kind and his dog duly mind
Though he knows she would rather not bother
The unfixable tear in his jeans she’ll repair
Without threatening a scolding from Father

 

She might muse on what next he will do in pretext
But is sure he will vex her in pleasure
Or if on his bike he’ll collide with a trike
Or a child that another might treasure

 

And how can the lad with that other kid, dad
Be so noisy and boisterous at night
Or inventively tease little sister to ease
His restive demand for a fight

 

Night finally comes round and his bedthings are found
From morning in some dusty cranny
He’ll bribe and implore for just five minutes more
And will argue with skill that’s uncanny

 

Snugged tightly in bed, with his prayers fitly said
He so softly then asks for his Mother
She’ll listen awhile through tear misted smile
To a marvelous tale or another

 

Of a race that he’s won or a brave thing he’s done
In the very young world that he knows
Then she tucks in the sheet and their lips briefly meet
In affection that too seldom shows

 

And she steps from his side with a feeling of pride
So intense that it seems hard to bear
For the faith of a boy in his Mom is a joy
When both day and his life he can share.