The Pained Mother.

Here is my new poem. The situation is in the poem itself. Yesterday I posted a gift for a new friend from Russia. At that time I said the reason for doing it will known shortly. I was writing this poem looking at her picture. I am attaching the picture along so that you know exactly what I mean with this poem. The picture was taken from the screen shot I took exactly the moment I described in the poem.
Here is the poem.

The Pained Mother.

The dusk rested, the birds nested,
A resting place under eyes, darkness found.
The magic of sleep night unfolded,
Not for a mother who through the web at me looked.

The weird world, the wilder world the world at her yelled,
And from the world wide web she wanted to run,
But the moneyless purse and the face of a son she remembered,
And the world with all patience and pretty smile she faced.

Then to my wonder about her son she told,
The sparkles in her eyes in all wonder I watched,
The friendly wife, a wonderful mother and a poet too she is,
As to me her poems one by one she recited to entertain.

The wilder world, sex scavengers again at her yelled,
To hold peace with all her might she tried,
Oh’ then the cry of a baby around I heard,
And stunned she sat as she cannot leave.

Though no parent I am in her eyes I saw,
The innocence of a baby for mother’s warmth crying,
The twitch in the heart a mother will feel,
Oh’ eyes spread through to a poet’s heart too.

The world around mercilessly screamed,
To see and feel the pain of a mother none cared,
Through my jokes her pain I relieved,
But forgot I can never, the face of the pained mother.

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