She

                   Gentle by nature,
               So graceful a feature,
          Epitome of love and affection,
                That is you,my lady,
The brightest star on the human horizon.

           A concerned daughter,
                 Ever so ready,
     To shoulder their responsibility,
         They,who had enlightened,
    Her  parents,no less than God,to her.

        The sister,a benign figure,
         With a mind crystal clear,
           Her affection transcends,
                For her siblings,
 All other emotions,she harbours and feelings.

                When she is a wife,
     She walks and with him she stands,
                With his in her hands,
     Steadfast is she,in moments of strife,
 A choice,consciously made for this devoted life.

                 When she a mother,
            She assumes a character,
             That of a fierce protector.
            She enfolds her offsprings,
                     In the warmth
              Of her unfurled wings,
           And shelters them from,
    The silent and invisible predator.

    A deity of immeasurable strength,
     Toils away, for time,at any length.
             Bears pain and pleasure, 
                  In equal measure.

        Daughter, sister, wife, mother,
      She plays well, each of her part,
Dedication couldn't  find herself in any other,
 Endowed with benignty, she,such a fine art.

         But when teased and tortured,
        The tenderness she'd nurtured, 
                    Takes a turn,
  Transforms,she to a tigress from a doe, 
        Dreadful, a fearful entity to her foe.

  You carry the man in your womb,lady,
         Divine is the spirit you embody,
       For all your affection and concern,
            To you,the sky writes an ode,
        And the earth breaks into a paean.
                                                           Chandni.