The Nubian Mother

The Nubian Mother
The nubian mother; her house is full
Her hands untired but at heart she's weak
She works and labours without a tool
She listens and observes then wisely speak
At dusk the merry of a weary dawn
Joys of watching a crawling child run
The nubian mother mastered to bare heels
Her support gives her husband a pleasant feel
Her meal a nourishment to the body and soul
At her feet of comfort the young shall grow
The nubian mother; a heart of gold
In darkness or pain her smile still glows
She gathers in bits the strays of her husband's riches
Her love if summed is in a thousand digits
She wakes at the cock crow and sleep when the bats nests
She loves her neighbours but her children comes first
When dinning with the devil she's not afraid of a short spoon
With her at forty no man can't remain a fool
The nubian mother; dark woman skin smooth
Lips of a goddess and breasts of queen sheba's chest tool

Beautiful like the lady of cyprus

Upright like the ways of the righteous

Roses, dove, swan and sparrow

Girdle, shell, myrtle and mirrors

The nubian mother a woman of steel

A bucket of brilliance up her sleeves

Familiar with the usage of paper and pen

Zenith excellence in the world of men

An environment that adjusts to her selfish end

White collar tigeress in a lion's den

Mechanised manipulation creates a desired fate

Turns mind of her own against hate

A forest of happiness can't thrive without her trees

Hands not idle, not bound but free

Transition on her watch of a house to a home

Nursing her children and husband alone

Fingers of progress

A family of essence

The love and lust

All dirt and dust

A routine on the daily

A cradle of speed and silence of the gravely

The love of a mother

Actions louder like claps of thunder

An African mother a nubian queen

Skills she learnt from her mother's schemes

@thevyrus