My Mother's Poem on Mothers

My assignment from Deadlines for Writers (formerly 12 Poems in 12 Months) for the month of March 2020 is "mother."  I am having a hard time coming up with any approach that hasn't been done ad finitum. One of my Mother's poems I really enjoy is one she wrote on the topic. Here it is.

A Woman's Work Is Never Done

That poem that came into my heart
Unexpected, like a dart,
I want to polish for discerning,
To write it down - oh, the yearning!

First, I must polish something more -
That spot from off the kitchen floor.
What did I write? A note that said,
"Excuse my child. He's sick in bed."

I also write some words to note:
Call the dentist. Hem brown coat.
Wash blue sweater. Start the roast.
Toss a salad. Bread for toast.

Wash the dishes. Fold the clothes.
Sew a blouse. Buy ribbon bows.
Make a poster. Draw a fish.
Prepare another covered dish.

Wash the windows, doors, and sills.
Grab the telephone. Pay the bills.
Buy quick oatmeal; cream of wheat.
Call repairman. Mend a sheet.

Set the table; kiss a hurt.
Iron a tablecloth, blouse and skirt.
And other chores I list and/or do -
Just little things - the whole day through.

So I continue wiping noses,
And postpone things, like Grandma Moses.
But thank you, God!  You did your part.
You put a poem within my heart.

by Ruth Baird Shaw
1973