Mother’s Day calls
what a fanfare they create
hugs and kisses all profuse
gifts of kinds expensive and memorable.
I sit with amusement
had been a mother for long
no calls for me yet
means my sons do not think of me
I do not fret.
I wish not to be thought of
I am fine and would be so
a call will not change
as the three of them talk to me
with immense love and utmost care.
They find nothing special
being a Mother’s Day or any other.
well, that is good and beautiful
seeing them healthy and wealthy
makes me ever happy.
Meenas Poems 