In the quiet fields where whispers roam,
A son remembers, beneath the loam.
Her voice, a gentle guiding hand,
In every furrow, every strand.
She taught him strength in silent ways,
Through tender nights and humble days.
Her laughter, a melody so rare,
Her presence, a constant, tender care.
In her eyes, the stories of old,
A warmth that never grew cold.
She sowed the seeds of love so deep,
A legacy her son would keep.
Now he walks where memories blend,
With every step, a message heâll send.
A tribute to a mother’s grace,
Forever cherished, her embrace.