My First Love
Wrinkled, but beautiful still
Even in decrepit apparel and uncombed;
Jagged skin and sensual fragrance lost
But still spongy her touch is and the smell
Only thing I’d miss the most in the universe.
Toiled through hardship and still indebted,
Altruistic she- uncared and unattended her own needs,
But protected her offspring despite dearth
From cold and famine, the fatal scourge,
And well-groomed into esteemed mortals.
In spite piercing pang and pain within
Beautiful soul, still smile on the parched lips,
For bold but tender my darling is,
So kind at heart and divinely soft in speech,
She is, perhaps the surrogate of Goddess.
Aged and hoary now appears my hero,
But conversant, cultured and well-versed,
The fount of worldly wisdom she is
Who speaks of art of living and greatness-
The lessons from myriad mistakes of her past.
Dearest and my favorite, still the one I so adore,
And now Silver Jubilee of our intimacy,
Fonder my heart becomes of her, my love,
Indubitably the most desired and undeniable,
Only is she the joy and ecstasy of my life.
Best friend she is to me since infancy
With whom I played and quarreled often,
And my sweetheart, indeed my first love,
With whom I had my first kiss and shared a quilt-
My beloved mother- the creator of this poet.
I love you, mom.
Copyright © Karma Dorji | Year Posted 2015
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