None can fathom the love,

Of a mother and child,

Nor can it be measured,

Nor can it be described.

Yet a futile effort I employ,

To say her love is supreme,

Showing light to the sun,

Calling supreme, supreme.

Can you measure the sky,

No, you can't,

Her love is beyond compare,

Which we later understand.

Hands that rock the cradle,

Rule the throne for sure,

The throne of heart thy definitely rule,

Of this, I am very sure.

Jacob Sir Poetry, Poems and education