Nobody Knows but Mother
by Mary Morrison
How many buttons are missing today?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many playthings are strewn in her way?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many thimbles and spools has she missed?
How many burns on each fat little fist?
How many bumps to be cuddled and kissed?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many hats has she hunted today?
Nobody knows but Mother.
Carelessly hiding themselves in the hay—
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many kerchiefs willfully strayed?
How many ribbons for each little maid?
How for her care can a mother be paid?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many muddy shoes all in a row?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many stockings to darn, do you know?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many torn little aprons to mend?
How many hours of toil must she spend?
What is the time when her day’s work shall end?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many lunches for Tommy and Sam?
Nobody knows but Mother.
Cookies, apples, and blackberry jam—
Nobody knows but Mother.
Nourishing dainties for every “sweet tooth,”
Toddling Dottie or dignified Ruth—
How much love sweetens the labor, forsooth?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many cares does a mother’s heart know?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many joys from her mother love flow?
Nobody knows but Mother.
How many prayers for each little white bed?
How many tears for her babes has she shed?
How many kisses for each curly head?
Nobody knows but Mother.
Inkspelled Faery 