It rained the day my mother died,
With all her children gathered ‘round,
It seemed that all of heaven cried,
With teardrops puddled on the ground,
But later on the sun came through,
And beamed upon our reveries,
Thus, all our lives began anew,
So grateful for our memories,
It was no time for grief or shrouds,
The angels love a gentle soul,
I know she’s up above the clouds,
Throughout her life she paid the toll,
I see her standing by the Gates,
And smiling down, as one who waits.
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