She was a wealthy woman
of care and caution and pure,
Who had brought up her gifts,
three sons, whom she bestowed,
personal care and affection
unalloyed all along.
When one morning they left home
Hopefully for better prospects,
She waited with cool and positive
Patience, her home always with prayers
and chanting both morn and eve.
Whereabouts of three she is yet to know
Some said, could be they were drowned,
Some opined, they were abroad,
Some felt, collective business loss,
Hence, they would return after a long,
Northward would she always pray,
For the return of her blessed three;
She woke up from sleep and anxiety,
“That her children would come
but will not stay along,” was it a mystery,
Or weird, a prediction from far off?
Her motherly affection wants
at least once their face, their smile,
Their company, rest, leaving it to Time.
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