Mother
She is like a precious gold.
Who is like mother on earth?
Maternal boggling when problems,
The day realization was and nothing was.
For the mother line surveillance requirement.
Is it of the nine months of pregnancy,
Or the pain inured during child birth.
During the sick days,
Mother is one running helter skelter.
Mother, idol of war for our perspective life.
Mother has no e...
Monday 10th September 2018 9:13 pm
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Where is THIS Jerusalem?
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on A Cut Above
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 31. Brussels Boycott]
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Civilities
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Stats (To be continued)
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
5 hours ago
Rolph David on The Anchorage Gambit – Reflexive Control
5 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Stats (To be continued)
6 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Tikumtok
6 hours ago