As I sit on my high chair, <br />My mother, she feeds me, <br />With a tiny silver spoon, <br />Mashed carrots and potatoes, <br />Spoons full of love, <br />Wipes the tiny corners <br />Of my mouth tenderly, <br />The wind chime moves, <br />Swinging in the wind, <br />The honeybees buzz <br />In and out of the flowers. <br /> <br />There are tears in <br />My mother's eyes, <br />I know not why. <br />She hugs me tight, <br />Brushes my curls aside <br />Whispers sorry and brings <br />Her trembling hands <br />To my dainty neck, <br />I look into her eyes <br />Filled with tears, <br />I feel no pain, <br />Other than the one <br />In my heart, <br />She took what she <br />Gave me 'life' <br /> <br />As I sit on my grave, <br />Looking at the grass shake <br />Merrily in silence, <br />Sifting mud between <br />My little fingers, <br />My loving mother lies <br />Next to me <br />Refusing to wake up.<br /><br />Reshma Ramesh<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/momma-s-darling/
