824. Sonnet to my Female Class Fellows now Old Moms (BZU)

SONNET 824
By JH Sayyar
O fellows aged, with silver in your hair,
Whose hands shaped the world with grace?
Each wrinkle tells of years beyond compare,
Of sleepless nights and every warm embrace
Your voice, soft, still echoes strength untold,
A lullaby that calms the storms of tender youth,
Your heart, a hearth that never once grew cold,
Still beats with kindness, sacrifice, and truth.
Time bent your frame and dimmed your sight,
But not the fire that lights your inner flame
You walk through dark to bring children light,
And bore our burdens, asking none for fame.

So let us praise you now with tender songs
Old moms, whose love makes weak strong