My lovely mother

Depiya Thoudam
A comely woman she is
She has seldom frowned
Does not own a pulchritudinous face
But for sure she owns a caring soul
While busy caring for us selflessly
Her black hair has started turning grey
Despite her aversion
It never ceases turning grey
Though the glow of youth
Has crept away from her face
She still smiles ravishingly
Easily one can trace the wrinkles
Emanating from the edges of her eyes
Also one could ferret out the age spots
On her arms and hands
Still she makes the best Dal curry
How can a mother’s hand made dish
Seasoned with utmost love and care
Not be the most delicious one?
She is my lovely mother
She would always be my greatest teacher
Of love compassion and fearlessness
I wish I could slow down time
So she could age slowly and live longer.