That One Lady in the House

The pains, the cures, the worthies, the vains,

The master effects of acceptances and blames,

The stories, the truth, the untold lies,  

The excitements, the fears, the stomach full of butterflies,

The lasts, the firsts, the middles that come and leave,

The successes, the failures, the laughter and the grief,

The secrets buried, the facts never unveiled,

How does she know, my every emotion being trailed,

No less than a word, never more than an emotion,

She silently watches as if perceiving every commotion

This lady in my house, that one lady in everyone’s house,

Taps the pulse of the walls and the people living within,

The no-nonsense life, the let-me-know-when-you-need-me vibe,

The love which never falls less, the love to jibe,

She must be supernatural, for no one, I believe, could look through soul,

She is the head, she’s the mother, she’s one enough for the family, the whole.