A warm arm to snuggle, and a scary witchy laugh,
the best walk to school each day, and a reminder when to bath.
A story at bed time, and a wake-up call at dawn,
a spoon to lick when cake was made, and football on the lawn.

An evening walk to the shop, with our fury friend,
I always used to wish, that those walks would never end.
But back we came, home again, our happiness on hold,
I often wondered why it was you stayed within the fold?

Two people lived within you then; one happy, one subdued,
they came and went, each in turn, depending on his mood.
But when the cat went off to work, the mice came out to play,
and so we changed from glum-at-night to happy-in-the-day.

Those times are gone, and though it's late, you are yourself at last,
I guess it doesn't help to dwell too heavily on the past.
Despite the years that could have been, had we split and run,
You're still the best a boy could want, in a woman to call mum.