Mother, my mother -- the first person
On whom I laid my infant eyes upon,
The first gaze of love between me and
Her -- bonding a new relationship.
Ever since, I've found her
Right beside me;
A friend who knows me
through and through
A teacher, of the values of life,
Picking me up when I fall.
Embodiment of unconditional love
and selfless sacrifice.
There's nothing made by God
which does not fascinate her.
Patron of nature and colours vivid --
pretty pink, dusky brown and fiery red.
Happy-go-lucky as a child
Responsible enough to ashame
the sternest of caretakers.
Not just food she feeds us with
but an infusion of her boundless love
and dollops of care.
Her hands weave magic
and makes a house a home
worth living.
She's privy to my secrets,
My trustworthy confidanté.
When I go to school,
She kisses me farewell,
in eager anticipation of my coming
back home, back to her.
She seeks no presents,
but just a figment of our love.
But how can a drop compare
to the ocean vast,
held in the heart
of a mother?
Most patient listener, she listens
on and on, to my prattle
as if my words were diamonds.
But to me, the most beautiful word,
rarest gemstone out of all rocks,
is the name of my mother...
(on the occassion of my mother's birthday- 2nd Sept.)
Notice the first letters of the first six lines....
ReplyDelete