TO HER SONS

A mother's love changes not with the seasons,
Neither does rhyme or reason.
Grow tall and strong within their home,
The years ahead must all count, not just some.

A home isn't without imperfections,
But neither is life without its reflections.
Parents usually try their best,
Even then, they can fail the test.

Take what you have and give life not jest,
Love sees your efforts, He'll help with the rest.
Be kind and thoughtful, listen and love,
He'll not forget your home up above.

He's waiting and loving them into the fold,
Won't it be great when they fit in His mold.
Together, they'll be there where tears are unseen,
They'll stroll in the streets He's made so to gleam.

Until then, they'll just follow their drummer,
Grasping the opportune moments, not without slumber.
These moments of silence are also His,
Else how could He use them and plan all of this!