When Apples were 3 and we were 4 ...my mom said "I don't like apples"..and to torture you all..it reminded me of my following poem which i wrote when i was 14 (and edited when i was 16)..It's kiddish but the closest thing to my heart i would have ever written..Enjoy!
When I was four :
A heartily smiling face,
Looking down on me,
Swinging me with full pace,
Grabbing me with both hands,
The only one,
To be happy
When i passed step one
--She is my mother
The first memory of her.
When I was ten :
Tightly, steadily holding papers,
Asking a familiar face,
To fill them up,
Standing worried in a new school,
The only one
Though literally illiterate
Getting my admission done
--She is my Mother
One of the faintest memory of her
When I was thirteen :
Trying to console me,
Standing beside my bed,
Arranging the pills and syrup,
Moving fingers through my hair,
The only one
Greatly afraid
Still making me stand operation
--She is my mother
The most heartwarming memory of her
When i was fourteen :
Making me rest in her lap,
Encouraging me with most zealous words,
Unknown with Boards,
But preparing me for the trial,
The only one
Mysteriously filled
With moral information
--She is my mother
The most lovely memory of her.
When i am sixteen :
Ready for the most wisest advice,
Ready for the most warmest lap,
Ready for the most genuine care,
Ready for the friend in need,
Ready for the only one
I know will be with me
Always, at any situation
--She is my mother
The perfect idol on earth.
Post-Script : Isn't it simply amazing how your mother understand your world better than you....even when you refuse to admit that.. :)
