by Atul Chandra Sarkar
In rains, winters and summer,
Let’s have our rice together,
Let’s gather on the dinner table,
For the sake of our mother.
Just see the way she toils,
How she remembers our choice,
What we shall or shall not eat,
Who’ll grumble or raise a voice.
Her eyesight may turn weak,
Her movements a bit slow,
Yet, every dish you relish,
Gives her face a happy glow.
Her eyes are on every plate,
She doesn’t like them empty,
Ever ready to offer a little more,
She thanks God for having plenty.
On the sumptuous dinner table,
Share your joys and sorrow,
In discussions, emerge solutions,
For problems of today and tomorrow.
Be sure that your parents eat,
Always look at their plate,
Who knows tomorrow might be late.
And either or both be prefixed ‘late’.
Last updated June 24, 2016