By Sabrina Munir
Going to the woods, running to the scenes
My mother is nurturing the blooming buds
The bare feet she lays on wild thorns gait
Scars so deep that they will not heal at ease
Watering the blooms as newly born babies
Pains she take to give them relief
Like she did for me in my babyhood,
Her bosom so warm and mellow
I still feel the touch of her sensitive lips
The all-time affectionate words they poured
Her rose-pink cheeks would lay on mine
With her soothing hands she held me tight
Her velvet lap lulled me tenderly like breeze of melody
Mother’s arms always swung with joy on holding me
Her glittering eyes thrilled out of jollity
The pretty face looked more wonderful
I could notice her lovely feet dancing up in air
She made me grow and taught me lessons of life
Helped me mature my thoughts with her wisdom
MOTHER!
Thou art an angel of heaven
So precious, subtle and divine thou art…
“Thou my cradle of nature”
Hats Off sabrina Di,She has always guided me at Radio Kmr Sgr. A pious lady with high thinking.