In the quiet of the evening, she whispers tales,
Of knights and dragons, of ships and sails,
Her voice, a melody, soft and sweet,
Guiding dreams on gentle feet.

Her hands weave magic, in every touch,
A world of comfort, she gives so much,
With every word, she plants a seed,
Of wisdom, love, and endless creed.

In her eyes, the universe unfolds,
Stories of wonder, a thousand untold,
A beacon of strength, a pillar of grace,
In her embrace, I find my place.

Oh, English mother, with heart so pure,
Your love, a remedy, a timeless cure,
In your shadow, I grow and thrive,
With you, forever, I feel alive.