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.