My Mother?

In my lawn when I was strolling by,

I heard my neighbor's first soon cry-

"Mamma's mine I love 'er most.

She cooks for me delicious goose roast.

"The second retorted, "Why not mine?

I love 'er more than you do a thousand time."

I smiled at the immense love the little lads had

For their dear mother, she'd be so very glad.

Years flew by and the then fair sons

Changed to become two grown ones.

The mother too had her hair grey now

And couldn't help but walk with her back bent in a bow.

One day while walking by their old house

I heard between the sons an argument rouse.

The mother wasn't well and needed care

And the fight was to know who'd buy her an arm chair.

"Just do it for your mother, why don't you?"

Why should I when it's your mother too?"