Mother watches over me
First in my cradle
from a rocking chair
Later by the stove
as I toddled on my own

Mother watched over me
Sometimes from the kitchen window
to see me playing in the yard
Other times by the gate
as I came home from school

Mother watched over me
In the sunshine
or in the rain
In the night
or light of day

Now she is gone
but still watching over me
From the window of heaven
or by the pearly gate

She held me when I cried
and laughed at silly things
Gave courage for me
to walk, to dance, to sing

Always working
always dreaming
Of a better life
for me.
Martha Gibson
Resident at Heritage House
Vicksburg, MS
May 10, 1999