In realms where sunlight softly weaves, There blooms a love that ever cleaves. A poem I sing, with words so true, To honor thee, the most reverent mother, in hues of dew.

Oh, sacred heart, in grace adorned, In every trial, your love is sworn. With hands that cradle, strong and kind, You nurture dreams in hearts enshrined.

In twilight whispers and morning's hush, Your lullabies in echoes brush. Through moonlit nights and sunlit days, Your warmth persists in endless waves.

A garden of patience, you gently tend, Where seeds of wisdom, you carefully send. In every tear, a lesson sown, With love, a shelter, your grace has grown.

The canvas of life, your art unfolds, A masterpiece of stories, silently told. Each sacrifice, a stroke divine, In the tapestry of time, your love aligns.

For storms may rise and winds may wail, Yet, in your love, a steadfast sail. Through every tempest, calm you steer, The beacon of hope, forever near.

The laughter of children, the joy they find, In the cradle of love, your arms entwined. With whispers of comfort, soft and sweet, You make their world a sacred retreat.

Oh, reverent mother, embodiment of grace, In your embrace, all fears efface. Your love, a hymn, a sacred psalm, A melody that lingers, eternally calm.

So here I pen, with humble quill, A tribute to you, beyond the hill. In the book of life, your pages turn, The most reverent mother, forever yearn.