Goodnight Irene

My mother’s name was Irene And I miss her every day She loved the precious flowers And new mown grass and hay For my folks lived on a farm Oh, it wasn’t very large They had a cow called Blossom The cow was truly in charge She followed dad all over An old red cow she was Wasn’t really good for much Didn’t have a purpose or cause Mom tended her flowers carefully Bouquets would fill the rooms She’d wait patiently each spring For those lovely brilliant blooms Yes, she’s gone now to meet dad Something is missing still it seems I’ll bet each night he still says “I love you, Goodnight Irene! ”