She Rocks Poem by azmat naushad asif
She Rocks
It is not, a furniture any more.
It smells of the sweet
sweat of my mother.
Who often sat, on the
rocking chair; with my children
on her soft lap.
Gently swinging, singing and
paving a way for them,
into the dream world.
As she has, made me achieve mine.
With strong and steady steps I
walked into the real swaying world.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
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4/23/2024 3:24:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
