On a cold evening, whistling; me, a toddler, tagging her.
Every stitch bound with great love, to cover me.
Through stormy nights her heart never changed.
She carried me for nine heavy months,
And wiped tears to get me a home and bread
With honest hands of a lovely, caring touch.
She taught me to have good friends,
Respect all ages with no pain and gain.
Even through her pouring she is always there,
Listening to my storms with great understanding.
When my heart wanders and things fall apart,
When my soul aches and my spirit is shut, she is by my side.
I wish I could pay her back, for she colours my world.
But the least I can do is to love her more everyday,
And may I inherit just half her caring heart
As I strive to be the best she wished me to be.
Mama! I love you; you always touch my soul.
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