Momma's Silvery Strand Poem by Sudam Panigrahi

In a relaxed mood,
She sits at the dressing table,
Idly combing her stresses.

Discovers some silvery strands,
Lurking through the locks,
Pulls one and caresses.

Oh my half of my age gone.
Keeps that inside a small box,
For remembrance.

Sits down under a tree,
Leaves her hair loose
Calls her kids playing at a distance.

Pull the silvery strands dears.
Count on. One strand pulled,
You earn an allowance.

When kids pull some twenty
Find they none then
Ask they, Momma, money when?

She picks of the wisp
Pushes them to the rafter crevice
Flicks a smile to the kids then.

You’re so lovely kids, young,
Sincere and submissive. Go play.
We’ll have another session again.