Her Work Was Done
A poem for a Grandmother by a Granddaughter
By Bella Luna
Rosemary – a mother, a sister, a friend,
An aunty, a wife, a teacher ‘til the end.
The sweeping, the mopping, always cleaning the nest,
Forever caring, never sharing, Her burdens with the rest.
The work’s not done, it’s overflowing,
I need to iron and do the sewing.
Must get to Morrison’s, we’re out of buns!
A mother’s work is never done.
As the children grew up thick and fast,
There was less work to be done, at last.
But she still had the kids at school,
No time to rest, no time at all!
The work’s not done, there’s plenty left,
I won’t be finished, ‘til they’re all deft.
Puzzles, games, playtime and fun,
A teacher’s work is never done.
But then one day, retirement came knockin’,
Surely, it was time to throw the sock in?
As she saw the work begin to wane,
Five grandchildren suddenly came.
The work’s not done, it’s never ending,
Why does everything need mending?
You’re growing so fast, you weigh a tonne,
A woman’s work is never done.
She was a Grandmother now,
No time to rest, no way, no how.
I must teach, I must share, as I so yearn,
For everything I know, they must learn.
The work’s not done, there’s plenty more,
Oh dear, there’s paint all over the floor!
Let’s go to the park and enjoy the sun,
A grandmother’s work is never done.
As life grew steady, like the flow of the tide,
Attention turned to the man at her side.
This work was different, like no other,
She had to learn to be much tougher.
The work’s not done, there’s so many choices,
Can I just ignore the doctor’s voices?
The hospital trips, they leave me numb,
A wife’s work is never done.
No sooner did she turn around,
Did we grow up and make her proud.
The youngest now turned 21,
There was no more work to be done.
Her work was done, she couldn’t believe,
When she looked at all she had achieved.
Children and grandchildren all at ease,
Her work was done, now she’s at peace.
She rested her bones, and let out a sigh,
As we gathered round, to say our goodbye.
Surrounding her with affection and love,
As she journeys to Grandad, up above.
Your work is done, your time well spent,
Now it is our time to lament.
To weep and wale, to laugh and smile,
To hold each other, for a little while.
Spread the word!
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