ODE TO MOTHER'S PRAYERS

Always back on her blistered knees
Her cares and worries dripping from her wearied lips
Those her lips could not express
Her rod met buttocks to transform a no to a yes
Lighting lamps to lead through our lonely land
Amen to  mother's prayers, now the items we hold with thankful hands

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

THE ROAD HOME

JOY FROM PAIN

THE MELANCHOLIC NURSE