January Twenty-Third Poem by jim foulk

Happy Birthday mom,
today you would have been,
One-Hundred-Three,
hard to believe, you have
been gone almost ten years.

Mom you use to tell me,
to call you, write you,
said I would, but never did,
over and over you told me,
someday I won't be here.

Mom I know that, I will write,
I will call, but never did.
She always, wrote, always called,
when ever we parted, I would always,
say, if I don't see you again,
I will see you in heaven.

Today mom, wished I could call
and tell you how much love have
I for you, so nice if I could send
a birthday card to you, that is not
to be, so this poem says it all.

Mom growing up, thought
you would be here forever, never
dreaming of losing you,
mom, wished I could be like,
you, so giving, so caring.

You always thought of others,
never of your self, you always,
lifted me up, encouraging me in so
many ways, your faith in me,
amazed me so.

So mother dear, have a happy
birthday in Heaven, love you so,
someday soon, will say happy
birthday to your face.

wrote 1-23-07
On what would have been my mom's 103rd birthday