Cups and Saucers, a Poem

Cups and saucers, pots and pans.
Like a boy in Alice's Wonderland.

My memories flood with fleeting impressions,
Like the smile of that Cheshire Cat.

"Drink me!", Shrinks me,
Till I'm small again, sitting in your lap.

Aprons and bangles, buckets and mops.
Spinning with my tops.

Bathing and drying, dressing is charming,
Powder's comforting spell,

Smashing and splashing,
Inkling and drinkling from my own special well.

O mother dear,
Thank you for all those times,
Thank you for your kind, consoling hands.

"Drink me!" and once again,
I'm a grown man.

But mother darling,
I'll forever be your grateful son.

Whilst you don on me my well worn apron.
And freely let me dabble here and there,

Ever stirring and mixing away,
And even to this day,
Guided by your tending hands.

Whilst the sweet smell of fresh baked cakes wafts by.
And sticky fingers reminisce,
With drippings of fresh kulfi malai.

O sweet mother dear,
These are the cherished
moments of my childhood.

Ever sweetened with the laughing tear,
Thank you, o my mother dear.

For removing all my fear,
With your comforting zone,
and an ever warm embrace.

A smiling face.
And a mockery of the chase.

O my mother dear,
Truly you deserve an everlasting big great whopping cheer.

Cos, for me you are without peer,
Without compare.
O, I do love you so, mother dear.

The End. 
Dedication, for my mother and all mothers, for my wife, the mother of my children.


And Muhammad (saw) said, "Heaven lies at the feet of (the) mother". Meaning in serving and being kind to them, for they themselves nurtured you and loved you whilst you were young.