In Old Age Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

In old age

She is no other
But beautiful mother
Like flower
Mild and kinder

Even animals
Do not take it as casual
They love and stay together
Till their mother provide full cover

We are exception
And bound by some relation
Mother is always at the centre
And we touch the feet when enter home

No words shall suffice
But we feel happy with her voice
Calling our name by pretty pet names
We go over to her even without calls

Shall we mistreat her?
Can we even dream world without mother?
Even God has taken birth in her womb
How can we show thumb in old age?