To Mothers

With your crippled speech, fragment words and high timber sounds you are still a singer to your cub.

With old rags and ancient style, long braided hair as waves and without a clue of make up you are still a beautiful soul.

With the unheard sighs, the blame on you, the fun they make and silent cries you still have a strong spirit..

With the bumped up hips and tiny breasts all the curves and figure distorted you are still a marvel.

Hair grown body and stretch marks the moles displaced and black eyes you are still a piece of art.

With the carefree laugh, colours in eyes, golden skin and scintillating gay you were and still are the goddess.

With each sacrifice in action and love that you hold, with shine of your child's dreams in your eyes you are still an amazing mother and beautiful always.

With all the care and skills in your hand, you make a house, home sweet home and treat your family with feast each day.

With a stick in your hand, your child's destiny map and life self-help book you carry in yourself, you are still an expert guide.

With laughs that are shared and tears that are shed and all the hugs, you are still your child's favourite friend.

With the support you give they become climbers wise, the purveyor of praise and punishment you are still living in your child's heart and you are their life's greatest blessing.