by Mazuba Mwiinga
Mother you are supreme
Far too sublime
You are our mentor
The bright teacher
When we fumble you moan
When we gamble you yawn
Your spirit is pure
Your secret very sure
Our gain is through your pain
Our happiness through your fame
Toil you do it for us
Talking you do it for no fuss
We revere your womb
Carrying the wood
Yet praising the hood
Happy mother’s day our mothers
Far too sublime
You are our mentor
The bright teacher
When we fumble you moan
When we gamble you yawn
Your spirit is pure
Your secret very sure
Our gain is through your pain
Our happiness through your fame
Toil you do it for us
Talking you do it for no fuss
We revere your womb
Carrying the wood
Yet praising the hood
Happy mother’s day our mothers
Copryright: 2009 Mazuba Mwiinga
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