On a dark stormy night the angels call Mother.
Her love that we shared was such a short while.
She called us around and said she was leaving.
Then closing her eyes she left with a smile.


Mother's at rest in a lonesome old grave yard.
On a hill far away there stand her white tomb.
With the grass covered o'er it seems so neglected.
When the spring season comes sweet flowers will bloom.

I'll never forget the love Mother gave us.
As children we played around the old home.
I know her reward is a mansion in Heaven.
Her children on earth are scattered and gone.