Mom came with a pile of books
Kept on the table and removed her shoes.
And said; ' Hello! Sonny still time to learn,
Jump into an University dear.'
'Mom! I am not a boy and already fifty eight.
How do they enroll me when the graveyard too refuses?
Also they have locked the gate for holidays.' I said angrily.
' I have the Master key if you get ready at anytime.' She said smilingly.
It's a dream I know but my poor Mom still holds that innocent hope
And I felt very sorry for her when I see other Moms on my way to work.
Moms always wish the best for their sons. But surely she must be proud of your poetic gift and your courage to face up to the challenges of life in a country foreign to you. Touching piece. Warmly, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your dream state remains as fertile as ever Nimal. In this one the reader notes how deeply your Mother still inspires your poetry. Perhaps too, you are voicing a special brand of education that is not dependent upon universities, but upon experience and access to the inner voice. Wonderful work. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥