My Mother Sang to Me


Take me along and sing me a song,
back to the old used to be.
Sing me a song back where I long,
like my mother sang to me.

Those days by the fire,
of the stove's warm desire,
laid a foundation of love and trust.

She'd sing a sweet song,
while cooking all day long,
joyfully doing what she must.

Take me along and sing me a song,
back to the old used to be.
Sing me a song back where I long,
like my mother sang to me.

We were poor and in need,
but we were rich, indeed,
with mother's songs in the air.

When the cupboard was bare,
she taught us to share,
song filled our stomachs with care.

Take me along and sing me a song,
back to the old used to be.
Sing me a song back where I long,
like my mother sang to me.

Wherever I roam,
thoughts take me home,
to that place that's so,
warm in my heart.

Where she sang a song,
and we sang along,
leaving memories that,
never will part.

Take me along and sing me a song,
back to the old used to be.
Sing me a song back where I long,
like my mother sang to me.

She's gone now to home,
but I still roam, remembering,
those good old days of song.

When mother sang to us,
making us trust,
that we were where we belong.

Take me along and sing me a song,
back to the old used to be.
Sing me a song back where I long,
like my mother sang to me.




Wood Stove Like Mother's

Wood Stove © AntiqueStoves.net

Thought I'd try to write a country song,
remembering how our mother sang to
us while cooking over that old wood stove.

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Copyright 2015 © Ronald W. Hull

11/12/15

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