Pintu Mahakul

My Mother is Busy in Writing

My mother is, mother is here busy in writing,

Watching her peaceful face tribute I am citing.

Lighting through her knowledge and affection,

Through austerity she has achieved perfection.

Reflection has fallen on her diary of emotion,

Eagerly I am watching still her pen’s motion.

What she is writing is something we feel new,

Her special poems carry dawn’s breeze in dew.

Waking up early at morning, switching on light,

My mum is writing poems, of course I am right.

Meditative mood is seen with unforeseen smile,

She is thinking for while, I am following her style.

Just before few days the Mother’s Day is gone,

But every day is Mother’s Day for us like dawn.

Books and notebooks have gathered on her table,

I am sure my mum is writing new precious fable.

Education she has given, she has given inspiration,

She is mother; I am child, now in time’s operation.

Aspiration I have is based on vision she has given,

Season of affection has brought joy, time is driven.