MY MOTHER!
My mother will for the love of us
Do things ordinary beings will not do
Things that are seen as a bother
She has them done without a fuss
Always making sure there's ample food for us all
Hiding her countless worries for us
Swallowing her anger when her pride's bruised
Forgiving us when we hurt her feelings
My mothers' hand are cool and fair
They can do anything
Delicate mercies hide them there
Like flowers in the spring
When I was small and could't sleep
She used to come to me
And with my cheeks upon her hand
How sure my rest will be
For everything she ever touched
Of beautiful or fine
Their memories living in her hands
Will warm that sleep of mine
My mother has the prettiest tricks of words
Her talks come out as sleek and smooth
As breast of singing birds
She shapes her speech all silver fine
We had not dreamed these things we're so
Of sorrow and of mirth
Her speech is a thousand eyes
Through which we see the earth
And I'm rich who learnt from her
All these were very long ago
And I'm grown, but yet
Her love, her hands, her speech
That lured my slumber so I never can forget
For still my mother
Take under her loving and gentle wings
The little children of us her children
Pooring her unmarched devotion and affection
Spelling out the great depth
Of her endless love
May your soul rest in Peace, MUM!
Do things ordinary beings will not do
Things that are seen as a bother
She has them done without a fuss
Always making sure there's ample food for us all
Hiding her countless worries for us
Swallowing her anger when her pride's bruised
Forgiving us when we hurt her feelings
My mothers' hand are cool and fair
They can do anything
Delicate mercies hide them there
Like flowers in the spring
When I was small and could't sleep
She used to come to me
And with my cheeks upon her hand
How sure my rest will be
For everything she ever touched
Of beautiful or fine
Their memories living in her hands
Will warm that sleep of mine
My mother has the prettiest tricks of words
Her talks come out as sleek and smooth
As breast of singing birds
She shapes her speech all silver fine
We had not dreamed these things we're so
Of sorrow and of mirth
Her speech is a thousand eyes
Through which we see the earth
And I'm rich who learnt from her
All these were very long ago
And I'm grown, but yet
Her love, her hands, her speech
That lured my slumber so I never can forget
For still my mother
Take under her loving and gentle wings
The little children of us her children
Pooring her unmarched devotion and affection
Spelling out the great depth
Of her endless love
May your soul rest in Peace, MUM!
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