She is the prism, through which I saw the world,
After the detachment of umbilical cord!
For aught I know,
Mom’s word is law!
She is loud,
Like the thunder cloud,
But, often silently proud!
She reproves my actions,
Coupled with warnings and visionary decisions!
Guides in the fierce world,
Through advises adorned with pearls!
When mundane grief troubles me,
Wipes the tears with her delicious recipes!
For my little achievements,
She is there to pat my back!
Any season or occasion,
Mom’s lap is my cushion!
Her lullabies are a delight,
And hugs free from strife!
By the manipulative power of motherhood,
She rekindles my spoilt mood!
On top of everything to make me smile,
She would go the last mile!!