She Serves: Universal Mom

She Who Serves

She who serves, has a thankless task,
The smile she wears is a clever mask;
Her hands are raw from scrubbing brush,
And yet they soothe and never rush.

Her hands may bleed, her bones are bent,
The aches so many they may be lent,
And yet she carries weary on
And comforts all she comes upon.

Her limbs are weak and sometimes fail,
Sometimes she’s lost and feeling frail,
Sometimes she loses her even flow
But always there if you need to know.

Her words may come and words may go
But acts of comfort that make folks glow;
She metes them out as one deserves,
These are the gifts from she who serves.

She serves who also toils

She who toils also serves, in her place,
She serves with grace, never knew lace,
Had no perms, owned no gowns,
And yet her face shows no frowns.

Cheerily dispenses words so wise,
Honest, open, no disguise,
Numberless the ones she’s helped,
Always there, love enveloped.

Thankless though the task may be,
Her sage advice sets spirits free,
Words to comfort, words to heal,
To kiss a wound is no big deal.

Rich or poor she worries not,
She helps them all with their aching knot;
She has the gift to understand
That who you are, your spirit’s grand.

She holds the wisdom of the world in her keep,
But she doesn’t simply let it lie and steep,
She shares her knowledge, she salves the grief,
Mends the spirit, encourages belief;

She’s at peace, she knows her soul
She’s young at heart, she’s old as coal,
She’s free as birds yet rooted, still,
She shares the joy, spreads free will.

Not to praise beyond the pale
But servitude to her is never stale;
She knows their secrets, where’er they’re from
She who serves, Universal Mom.

Notes: to Scrub Lady
To my mom, our boys’ mom, our late poetess friend, and all who serve with grace and humility.