Dedicated to my beloved Iza Ghokheli A Swu
Ageing gracefully at five and four scores
She goes about doing her e’eryday chores.
Raised as a farmer’s daughter in a village;
She illustrates dignity of labour in her age
Wasn’t a choice that she took up a spade
Instead of a more valued chalk and slate.
Father had but no money to pay her fees;
She’d grow up among the crops and trees.
Accustomed to the ways of a village life;
She grew tough to face seasons of strife;
Tougher still w’en her village was ravaged
By war that left only Hope to be salvaged.
She learned her ABCs and 123s from nature;
Knowledge gained by way of life’s adventure.
She was given little yet she has a lot to offer
In small acts of kindness and via her prayer.
Marriage brought forth her children to earth.
Her toils increased following e’ery new birth.
So her faith in God wit’ greater responsibility,
She relies not on herself, but on God’s ability.
She is my most beautiful widowed mother.
Under her wings of prayer her seeds gather
And find refuge and comfort in e’ery season.
If I have come this far then she’s the reason.
~ A Anato Swu
