Precious, my precious… such tender hands you do possess… such tender words you do project
for a mothers’ heart stays true to her words.
She feels every pain and torture, a torture meted out by the world
for only a crime she did commit;
a crime of love and love indeed.
Precious, my precious… such wisdom you possess… such lips are rare
a tongue that blesses and curse be less.
She sees your sorrows and every hidden tear,
tears of hope and hope indeed.
Precious, my precious… such gifts you possess… such meals you make.
For a mother’s heart stays true to the stomach.
She knows when hunger comes knocking at the door, the door that only she has the key
the key that brings satisfaction and satisfaction indeed.
I shall take my precious wherever I go.
For she alone feels the dark part of my heart
a heart I once opened for all, till an arrow was sent flying my way.
She may have taken the arrow for me I know not
she may have stitched the pierced heart I know not
but what I do know is that a mother’s heart is made of steel
and sharpened with diamond to weather all storms of life.
Image Credit: Power your parenting