To My Mother

it is my mother who I recall
 her face comes to me in a call
 she saw  me through the years
 could I say the formative years
 she was a paragon of virtues.

Being the youngest daughter
 out of the two of her daughters
 she loved my sister the most
 spoilt her  to the utmost
she fell short of her virtues.

I was under her eyes
 never she relaxed her ties
a teacher strict, a mother affable
she took turns in all possible
 she upheld her virtues.

I used to feel  letdown
 as she cast a frown
 especially to me
 my sister was always in glee
she slipped in her virtues.


 Now she is gone forever
still I could feel the terror
 her eyes still follow me
 she had  been kind and firm
 not so to my sister in terms.

Her attitude and thoughts
has placed me in a slot
much higher than my sister
as I have  fairly performed  
now I worship her virtues.

All things that are sugary
would not make you happy
require a bitterness

too
 a juxtaposition  of the two
 would  aid to achieve greatness.