Mother dear, this white Carnation
Is a symbol of our love,
For the only kind dear Mother
In this life a child can have,
With the Purity of this flower Mother
Comes to us a lesson true
Of our childhood happy days,
While at home with you.
Touch the harp strings gently,
This is, "Mother's Day,"
We consecrate and keep Holy
Each second Sabbath day of May.
Let our memories be sacred
Though their graves are far away,
For the legacy they left us
Is our first "Mother's Day."
In the dim and pathless forest
Where the oaks their branches spread
The Creator of the universe
Heard the words our Mothers said,
And the Hymns that floated skyward
Across the western plains,
Echoed back in sweet devotion
To the sod house on the claim.
To loving keep and beautiful
From where the pine trees grow,
To away down south in Dixie
Where the flowers ever bloom,
From the rocks of proud Atlantic
Where the tempest flings its spray,
To the sun-kissed mild Pacific,
Millions keep "Mother's Day."
The Plains Poems in Kansas