The Portrait Of My Mother

Hung up high on the wall,

I glanced at the portrait fixed in my room

And was so filled with nostalgia. 

With all beauty and grace the almighty might had created her,

The innocence on her face could never be compared,

Her eyes were deep and much appealing

Anybody could see the love she held..

When I along with my siblings, annoyed her,

I remember how in anger she did frown,

But all that couldn't last long,  

Seeing us laugh, all her anger vanished quite soon

Her smile made me smile even more,

Because seeing a mother smiling,

 is probably the best sight any child could see.

I remember how I looked her,

While she dressed up in her favourite saree,

Oh! Heaven, how can a lady be so very pretty,

The glow, the charm, the splendour, the grace,

She was synonymous to every beautiful sight I could see.

She was magical....

Just by her mere touch,  she could cure all my wounds ;and

 just by my tears she could understand what bothered me so much.

She was happy in my smiles

She was sad in my cries..

She was my teacher 

She was my friend

She was my chef

She was my stylist

She was my caretaker,

She was my homemaker 

Oh! How did she manage so many roles.

She was a marvel,  

Full of tenderness, full of love, full of care, full of innocence

Even she could turn sadness into happiness,

And hatred into love..!

I wish she could come back once,

For she don't know,

How tough life had been,

Just for once, I could hug her,

And for once she could heal my pain,

All the time,

I see the portrait,

It really takes a heavy heart to believe 

That she had gone so far,

In a world full of fairies.