Best There Is (from an autumn mother to summer-mothers)

Most days, thanks to doing child-care this house doesn't suffer from too much quietness😊

Don’t mind the mess; seems happiness grows best in mud and dirt

Soft, soon enough, dear mother you’ll be forced to face the hurt

Of tidy, quiet aftermath of garden paths and such

Where moment over moment winnows summer from her touch

Don’t mind the mess; seems autumn-ness comes quicker than we think

‘Those other, older mothers’ warnings happen in a blink

Where carefree chatter, little fists filled with wild-flower love

Are nothing now but treasured mist in mother’s memory-trove

Don’t mind the mess; its commonness weaves living’s ‘best there is’

Where weariness is worth this world of goodnight hug and kiss

From lad and lass of grass-stained knees and bare-foot heaven-ness

Soak in the bliss of ‘best there is’ and oh, don’t mind the mess!

© Janet Martin