The Beauty of Mother
Not the waterfall cascading from the mountain’s height,
But her hair, a liquid cascade, flowing pure and bright.
Not the fish in the pond, swimming with a gentle glide,
But her eyes, deep and enchanting, where emotions reside.
Not the pearls beneath the sea, treasures vast and deep,
But her teeth, gleaming gems, in a smile, secrets to keep.
Not the fruit in the tree, hanging with tempting grace,
But her cheeks, rosy and tender, framing a lovely face.
Nature, in all its glory, finds its embodiment in her,
A mother’s essence, a sublime beauty to confer