My Mother
- Nidhi Verma
- May 25, 2021
- 1 min read
A dash of mist on a hot summer day
A cup of hot coffee by the freezing bay
Her presence is akin to these and more
Yes, I call her mother
When the jar of problems is filled to the brim
When the road appears rocky and grim
Her arms would always to my rescue come
Yes, I call her mother
There are times when several tantrums I throw
She may wonder if I would ever really grow
But her calm she keeps and bears with me
Yes, I call her mother
Her pains and struggles she keeps aside
When it comes to her being by my side
I know in her thoughts I forever live
Who else can it be, but a mother?
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