It puzzles me endless, just what it’s about
the mothering thing’s as clear as pants full of sprouts
Patience and loving and selflessly giving
When d’you get time for that other thing, living?
You juggle and cook and balance the books
The broth’s never spoilt, ‘cos you’re ALL of the cooks
Throw into the mix, a daddy maybe
and you’ve got stamina to make another baby!?
Vomit and poo and doctors and wee
balanced by smiles and love and giggles and Glee (happiness, not the popular televisión show)
Today is your day for a very good reason
But it really should be on every day, of E V E R Y season.
(Basically you’re all amAZING. I can’t even keep a plant alive.)
*I’ll just be over here, having coffee with Roger McGough, waiting for my Nobel Prize for poetry.