An ode to woman: A poem by Nazima Kachwalla


 How beautifully she sings during storms,
The stronger the winds the sweeter her voice,
Her under-toned faith against the howling breeze,
Like a smiling rose amidst the thorns.

She brings life to a deserted portal,
Paints it with hues from her soul.
And how patiently she sculpts,
Fine humans from ordinary mortals.

Yes! The architect, may not have built a grandeur Rome,
But with love and undying commitment,
Makes an ordinary walled house,
A blissful heaven, to be called a home.

Quietly with concern and care,
Her lovely hands churn magic,
As she puts at the table, her love,
Delectable, flavoursome and so aromatic.

A teacher, an accountant, a legal advisor,
How many roles so dutifully she plays,
A mother, a sister, a daughter, a wife, a friend,
The Creators Eve, a woman, an enchanting blend.



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