A Mothers Lap

My mother always handled
Her problems as they landed

Folded hands in her lap with her apron tied around
A crescendo of voices, still she never uttered a sound

I would catch a glimpse of her
deep in thought

While her children squabbled for the
Favored spot

A mother’s lap can only hold so much
Fourteen children vying for her touch

mother never crumbled under pressure
Always quietly, she would patiently endure

When we had bad moments, there were many
along the way
She busied herself with Solving the
the problem of that day

A mother’s lap is always a place of security
Added with her soft touch, the safest place to be