The Reading Mother

In honor of my mother Georgia P (McDaniel) Ward and all those mothers like mine who read to me as a child I offer this poem written by Strickland Gillilan. It was printed in Dear Abby's column on Mother's Day 1998 in the Columbus(Oh) Dispatch.

I had a mother who read to me
sagas of pirates who scoured the sea.
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
"blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath.
I had a mother who read me lays
of ancient and gallant and golden days.
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
which every boy has a right to know.
I had a mother who read me tales
of Gelertthe hound of the hills of Wales.
True to his trust till his tragic death,
faithfullness lent, with his final breath.
I had a mother who read me things
that wholesome life to the boy heart brings.
Stories that stir with an upward touch.
Oh, that each mother of boys were such!
You may have tangible wealth untold,
caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer that I you can never be
I had a mother that read to me.