saadat
01-30-2010, 01:42 PM
...Dedicated to all the mothers….
No love stronger then mother's love,
Croons around and preens like a dove.
Unpaired is her bond on this earth.
Naught in creation can match her worth.
Perennial tie that heaven has made,
caressing the lock, tress and braid.
As she labors to bring forth life,
bond uncut with the keenest knife.
Mother’s love is an endless song.
Sung every day and all night long.
Oblivious she to the vagaries of time.
Her lullabies ring an eternal rhyme.
Whenever her brood needs her there,
always there with her hands and prayer.
Mother’s love is an endless bloom.
Eternal spring till the day of doom.
HIS devise, God bless our Mothers.
Unrivaled, apart, from all HIS others.
God, bless each an all of them,
in their womb, HIS will doth stem.
All the tears and pain that they share.
Each bite of the lip for which they care.
She’s special as daughter and as wife.
GOD then blows in the crucible of life.
Dots her clutch in an endless dance,
beaming and pleased at their every prance.
At this duty, she’ll never bask at all.
Only wipes her tears at our every fall.
When her worldly days, are over and done.
Only then we know that she was the one.
original
saadat tahir
(Islamabad)
(April,7,2009)
No love stronger then mother's love,
Croons around and preens like a dove.
Unpaired is her bond on this earth.
Naught in creation can match her worth.
Perennial tie that heaven has made,
caressing the lock, tress and braid.
As she labors to bring forth life,
bond uncut with the keenest knife.
Mother’s love is an endless song.
Sung every day and all night long.
Oblivious she to the vagaries of time.
Her lullabies ring an eternal rhyme.
Whenever her brood needs her there,
always there with her hands and prayer.
Mother’s love is an endless bloom.
Eternal spring till the day of doom.
HIS devise, God bless our Mothers.
Unrivaled, apart, from all HIS others.
God, bless each an all of them,
in their womb, HIS will doth stem.
All the tears and pain that they share.
Each bite of the lip for which they care.
She’s special as daughter and as wife.
GOD then blows in the crucible of life.
Dots her clutch in an endless dance,
beaming and pleased at their every prance.
At this duty, she’ll never bask at all.
Only wipes her tears at our every fall.
When her worldly days, are over and done.
Only then we know that she was the one.
original
saadat tahir
(Islamabad)
(April,7,2009)