Mama\'s nasal hair,

Like sentinels of old, they stand at guard,

Protecting the gates, a fuzzy, wiry ward,

Filtering the air, with gentle, waving might,

Keeping the dust and particles out of sight.

Their soft, downy texture, a gentle caress,

Inviting the eye, to a curious address,

A whispered secret, of a life well-lived,

A tale of laughter, tears, and memories given.

Mama\'s nasal hair, a token of her age,

A badge of honor, on a wise and weathered stage,

A reminder of the years, of trials and of strife,

A testament to her strength, her beauty, and her life.

But oh, the humor, in this quirky little trait,

A source of amusement, a joke to create,

A lighthearted poke, at the absurdity of it all,

A chance to laugh and smile, at the whimsy of life\'s recall.

So here\'s to Mama\'s nasal hair, a tribute to its might,

A celebration of its uniqueness, in the morning light,

May it continue to wave, like a banner in the air,

A symbol of love, of laughter, and of life beyond compare.