In the morning light, she rises with grace,  

A warrior of warmth, in her steadfast embrace.  

With hands that have weathered both toil and the years,  

She crafts a life woven with laughter and tears.  


Her laughter, a melody, brightens the day,  

A symphony sung in the simplest way.  

With strength like the mountains, unyielding and true,  

She faces the storms, and she sees them all through.  


Her beauty, a canvas, painted with care,  

In the lines of her smile, in the love that she shares.  

Each wrinkle a story, each scar a proud mark,  

Of battles she’s fought, igniting the spark.  


Through long hours of labor, her spirit won’t wane,  

She builds up our dreams, through the struggle and strain.  

With a heart full of courage, she nurtures and guides,  

In her, we find solace, in her, love abides.  


So here’s to my mother, so strong and so bright,  

A beacon of hope in the darkest of night.  

With gratitude flowing, I honor her name,  

For the beauty she brings, and the strength that she claims.