Many great women have trod this earth,

Their light flickering like a burning hearth,

Blazing inspiration into the heart of every American,

Like Sacajawea, Earhart, and Harriet Tubman.

Others preferred to cast their light on a library,

Like Alcott, Austen, and Lucy Maud Montgomery.

Others favored the gleam of a Hollywood hall,

Like Shirley Temple, Doris Day, and Lucille Ball.

This list of heroines, geniuses, and celebrities seems unending,

But out of all these, I find thousands missing.

They aren’t the type a reporter would bother,

Since they’ve never been anything more than a mother.

How can people not notice these fair ladies clothed in silken love?

Or ignore their words that coo like a gentle dove?

They may not be numbered among great women of the past,

But the reasons I think they should be are vast.

Their hands steady our shaking nerves, arms, and feet.

Never do they forget to save us a seat.

Their smiles quiet our deepest pain,

And their wits help keep our heads sane.

They color the shadows of our lives with laughter,

And they seem to make God’s rainbows shine brighter.

The glistening hope they hold within

Causes their beauty to shine from under their skin.

Although their whistling and humming is a little off-tune,

It is sweet to our ears like the birds’ songs in June.

Every year, every week, every day we should shout in thanksgiving,

Because their presence helps make life worth living.

They are what holds a family together when it’s falling apart,

Pumping love, wisdom, and faith into its veins like the human heart.

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