Song Of An Orphan Poem by shalimar mageswary

the river flows from north to west,
i have come to take rest.

under trees, the grass like bed,
there i lay my weary head.

i sing a song that is of mine,
about a widow who was kind.

she gave an orphan a place to stay,
cared for him day and night.

one day came some wicked men,
who claimed the boy belonged to them.

poor old widow fought alone,
to tell the world that they were wrong.

in the end she won with pride,
little boy sat down and cried.

'fear no evil my little lad,
dry your eyes that are now wet.'

'i will see you be a man,
a wise man always in all lands.'

she is no longer here,
but her words to me are still clear.

wise i have been because of her,
like a mother she was, very dear.