Perennial Spring of eternal love,

Sparrow, pigeons on her eave.

A booming tone, a boisterous laugh,

Embrace the light with the dark.

She is my lovely mother.

No complaint, no blame

Whether I can't or can

Whether I am calm or insane

Who is the only balm curing my pain!

She is my sweet mother.

Litre of tears on her lap

Loud cries in her ear

Who is always present!

Sweet, salty or spicy.

She is my mother.

By Monalisa Parida

From: India

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/monalisa.parida.18488