The magic of her words

When she speaks tr heaven go silent
She is not god but she is my mom
She has a grace that no other lady i have found
She holds kind of love that no one in the earth have shown

She is my pretty young lady who denied to grow old
She specifies her age before i was born
She is cute and jolly i know her
The only stress she wears is my broken bones

She cooks like the vegetables are in meditation
She combs my hair as if my hairs are in dedication
Though when i see them they dance
But in front of her everything is on trance

She writes beytiful story evevryday
And i learn her a little
She is my pretty lady
She is a fairy from heaven


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