Mother's Day Poem

On this glorious day's birth, I wake
with a mirth, as I stir willfully out of a
dawn slumber, with a lofty spirit to fawn her.
The goddess I call mother.

Alas, my days-old eager twitch has met
a bold hamper hitch, as I calmly prepare,
to declare my profound esteem, as deemed,
to beloved and revered mother.

Mother like no other; whose inimitable
virtues are irreplaceable; for your sole
endeavors makes me whole, and your
rarity, no doubt, a charity upon my
poor being.

Your innate maternity upholds eternity.
For out of your womb, there is continuity
of God's creativity. And by your propensity,
a dynasty is born.

For your essence, without pretense, is the
core of man's existence.
I exalt thee whence life comes forth.

By your strive of grace, I live a life of ace.
For your sacrifice is more than suffice
to pay for my extravagance and indulgence.
For this benevolence, I praise you.

Even when the vicissitudes of life unsettles me;
your maternal aptitude confers on me fortitude.
And by a bestowed courageous attitude,
I rise to a conquering altitude.
For you, I give tribute.

As a daughter, your person I admire,
which inspires me enough to desire, and
aspire, for a semblance of you.
As a son, your charm grants me warmth,
and I can only strive for a wife like you.

You that scold me, to mold me, to become a
bold me. So as to reach a great height
with a strength to fight.
As a consequence, your discipline,
I pine for.

A friend that shields me from
all fiends, so that I can flourish
to no end.

Even though I am an adult,
I dare not flaunt,
for this is an insult.
Because to your vast wisdom,
I am just an infant.

You, and women alike, I laud.
And from all men, I call to applaud,
with this token of Mother's Day poem.