In the quiet of the kitchen’s hum,
Her hands held stories yet unsung,
Through gentle motions, love was spun,
A legacy of care begun.
Her eyes, a mirror to the earth,
In silence, spoke of endless worth,
Each glance a gift of gentle birth,
Nurturing dreams her heart would unearth.
The fields, the hearth, her sacred space,
In every corner, her grace embraced,
A presence strong, yet soft as lace,
Her spirit lingers, time cannot erase.
Through Seamus’ words, her essence flows,
A testament to all she knows,
In memory’s light, her warmth still glows,
A mother’s love, in endless rows.