Nothing can mend a child's aches better than Mom's love.
Her compassion is one of a kind.
Her words, tenderness and warmth is incomparable.
And no one does it better than her.
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Mom's love is heavenly created.
So that when we hurt she can pamper us.
She draws us into her loving arms.
Listens to our weeps and dry away our tears.
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She gives us security against our fear.
And appeases our frightened heart.
He accepts all our shortcomings.
And find joy in bearing sorrow with us.
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There is no valid reasons to dishonor her.
And resist with the love she is offering.
In times of miseries you can hasten anytime.
Her arms are wide opened to care for you.
YOU ARE READING
Rhymes of My Soul
PoesíaA poem is like a mirror, it echoes a soul. Every line has its own revelation - to uncover who we are, what we are and what we believe . . .
