I see my past in her ageing eyes 
I see my once upon a times
I see my fears through her tears 
And my lived happily ever after smiles 

I see myself fly beyond the realms of kings
I see myself grow out of her shadowed wings
I see my heart soften from stone to sand
And realise hers must have been so grand

I remember as she shone through my eyes
I remember how time fled and stars could not improvise
I remember pain trembled on her wisp of touch  
And books could not write about mother’s love this much
I remember her nearness as death takes its steps
I remember her as pain expands like cobbled webs
I remember floating on the surface of paradise
And here I am
Forever sleeping on the surface of her heart 

Taher Adel
Angels whisper to one another
About the finest angel, my mother
Through her eyes I witnessed the glimmer of the moon
And basked in her sun from dawn to noon
My world was molded by her very hands
Just as the farmer would plough his lands
Under her wing I found my home
In her love I endlessly roam
I blossomed in her pure reflection
And unfolded through her affection
An equal to her there cannot be
She is the mother He gave to me

'Heaven Lies Under The Feet Of The Mother'
Not entirely true
I see heaven in her tender eyes
I see the seventh of the skies
I feel it under her gentle touch
I hold it when our hands do clutch
I smell it in her scented clothes
Like a bee amidst a blossomed rose
If I could have chosen, I would have picked no other
To be my friend, to be the angel that is my mother

By Taher Adel
04 December 2008
Mothers love? An unidentifiable fusion
Often it is the centre of confusion
Mistaken for an insignificant allusion
Just look at her eyes, serene, alive
Upon those glares my soul will thrive
Through those stars my pulse shall drive
She kept me throughout the years
Away from the dark and gloomy fears
Under the umbrella of her gentle tears
She dressed me with lifes attire
Shielded me from the living fire
When it should have consumed me entire
Mothers love is something you cannot devour
Take away, destroy nor empower
It is like the fragrance of a flower
Seperated they cannot be
A lock without a key
My mother and me

By Taher Adel
17 June 2008