From a tacit,arduous sisterhood,
Only nineteen, and very young,
The league of extraordinary women,
Bold, beautiful and strong.
She fixes the sink and the car
And often she fixes a broken heart,
She changes the bulb,and the diapers
And gets the vegetables from the mart.
She wakes up the kid, and cooks for him,
Drops him to school, and then she will roam,
Selling soaps till the evening,
And run back to the second shift job at home.
She is the Accountant, and the Counselor,
She will cook, and listen to your worries,
She will clean, and bathe the kids,
At night she will read out bed-time stories.
Before he learnt to read the colors,
She taught the kid to tie his shoe-lace,
She will teach the son how to cook,
And the daughter how to maim a face.
At the stores, her head turns back,
When any cry of 'Mom' rings in the air.
She attends all the plays and the football matches,
To scream when her son scores fair and square.
She is always busy, and occupied,
Never gets the time to look sad.
But once a while, her face turns stone cold,
When somebody happens to mention 'Dad'.
But what makes a Good Mother, she wonders.
Is it patience, comapassion or broad hips?
Or is it the warmth in her bosom,
When she watches her child peacefully sleep.
