What it Means to be a Mother

by Gaurika Mehrotra aged 12

Oh Ma! You wake up every morning
at the crack of dawn
to prepare a sumptuous meal for us,
to get us dressed
and send us to school.

Oh Ma! How hard you work.
She meets us everyday after school,
caressing and hugging us,
enquiring about our day,
patiently listening to us,
walking us back home,
in the scorching heat,
just to be with us.

Oh Ma! Your task is onerous.
She serves us steaming delicacies
every night for dinner,
waiting for us to finish
before sitting down to the meal herself.

Oh Ma! Your diligence is ethereal.
She tucks us every night in our beds,
smothering us with kisses and kind words,
leaving us to dream sweet dreams,
ensuring all the nasty thoughts
are folded away in tiny corners
never to be explored!

Oh Ma! Is she an angel?
ascended from heaven?
Her sweet love
is like a harp playing,
her kind words
are like halos floating above her,
her presence is like
gust of wind,
but most of all
she lives for us children.

Oh Ma! Why did I ever vex you?
Someone so caring…
so beautiful…
and yet your mind never thinks us bad,
yet you love us
with all your heart.

Your love, Ma,
I’ll never understand.
Your unconditional love…

One Response to “What it Means to be a Mother”

  • Roger Stevens

    Lovely poem, Gaurika. I’ve divided it into verses, and then slightly altered the first line of verse one to match the beginning of the other verses. Hope that’s okay.

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