To Mamma... with Love...

Recurring thunderbolts,
The uproarious windmill,
Symbolizing danger,
That the lady fell ill.


Sneezing all day,
Coughing all night,
The body broke down,
But, firm stood the might.


Bedridden at the hospital,
She dried up day after day,
Faces turned pale,
Family in dismay.


Doc’ wouldn’t give up,
Would unmask the tumour’s stealth,
He came. He saw.
He treated the lady to health.


Blood from donors come helpful,
It sets them on song.
Showered with praises, the doctor
Blushed all day long.


The clouds cleared the sky,
Mum kept the heaven’s knell,
Still stood the mill,
Knowing the pretty lady was well.