MOTHERLINESS
Motherliness I say,
Is not only pregnancy,

For prostitutes get pregnant,
And give birth to fatherless sons.

Motherliness I say,
With keen love in her soul.

Is about climbing mountains,
So high and spiky,
That even the dreadful warriors,
Run cowardly far from.

Motherliness I say,
With care in her heart.

Is about falling in valleys,
So fierce and deep,
That all tiara of trust,
Have fearfully ran from.

Motherliness I say,
With peace in her mind.

Is about swimming oceans,
So wide and cold,
That even fish friends,
Have refused to swim.

Motherliness I say,
Is not only to give birth,

With tiring labour of life,
For animals also do.

All around the globe now,
I look for mothers,
Like the predators hunting,
Wildly for a plesant prey.

Then suddenly I found this mother of love,
That has attained immortality,
Let every man hear me loud,
YOU ARE A MOTHER.

That was a poem I wrote to Mrs. Marie Fatayi-Williams after she lost her first and only son in the London Bomb Blast.

Since today is used to celebrate mothers, you can send poems or greetings to them here.

I dedicate that poem to all great mothers that are not celebrated, the ones that die while labouring and the successful ones, HAPPY MOTHERS DAY, x x x