In a garden tendered by Heaven’s own hand,
Where virtues and blooms in harmony stand,
There grows a flower with a gentle glow,
A mother like mine, the heart’s sweetest show.
Her words are soft whispers from angel’s wings,
In her embrace, the peace of morning sings.
Guided by faith, she’s a beacon so bright,
In her eyes, the stars find their light.
Each day she gives, never counting the cost,
In her, the meaning of love is never lost.
She’s the prayer that whispers when nights are long,
Her strength, a fortress that makes us strong.
Oh mother, your care is a divine art,
God’s masterpiece, from the very start.
A hymn of grace in this worldly hum,
Forever treasured, my godly mum.
Author’s Note
This piece is dedicated to my mother’s gentle spirit and unwavering faith, which have always been a source of peace and strength for our family.
