Whenever I felt lost without a clue
Or just down and very blue.
I could always go
Home where Momma was.
When I needed wisdom beyond my years
Or someone to dry my bitter tears
I could always go
Home where Momma was
When I just needed a place to rest
Where I knew that I would always be blest
I could always go
Home where Momma was.
Now, Momma has been touched by death's cold hand
And I am so grieved that I can barely stand
At that familiar door to the
Home where Momma was.
Yet in my heart I can hear her voice
Telling me that I should rejoice
For things are so very grand at
Home where Momma is.
There will come a day when I too
Shall pass beyond the clouded blue
And then again I'll be
Home where Momma is.
This poem was a finalist in the
December 2005 poetry contest