I love you
Not just for the times you loved me first
Not just for the five o' clock steaming amulets
Or the final tuck in of my shirt in my wee years

I love you
Not just for the cleaning of the crust from my eyes
As my sleepy kindergarten self headed out for school
Or the many more times you cared in my ignorance

I love you
For the gentle touch that complements Dad's stern hand
For the corrections in gentleness, without once raising your hand
For the blank look, rendering my mind games futile
For my learning of a lady's fickleness just by staring at you

I love you

For the standard you set on how to be a wife
For the stretching of sacrificial lengths that confound reason
For the diplomatic centre you bear to douse tension
For the smiles, laughter and simplicity you share

I love you
For the fact that you love me more
For the fact that you'd see this poem and smile
For rendering all my displays of love an insufficient repayment
For making everything I can do for you atomically tiny

I love you.
I really love you.
Happy sixtieth Mom.
You're love unreal.