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Couplet Son Poems | Couplet Poems About Son

These Couplet Son poems are examples of Couplet poems about Son. These are the best examples of Couplet Son poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet | |

My Parting Gifts

                 My Parting Gifts…

Goodbye my son, my only king.
You are my love, your name I sing. 
My wish was more to be with you,
to be with you, and see you through.
This is my fate to leave you now,
my dread was this, to tell you how.
I’m going away, place unknown. 
The way I lived was not my own.
I am going, to ease my pain.
Letting you go, is my complain.
I am with you, with morning dawn.
Kissing with breeze until it’s gone.
My parting gifts to you my son,
to live your life, the way is fun.
Surrender to, the thing you love,
what measures love, grows above.
To get knowledge to find out why;
what is this life to you and I?
Me and you both, we are oneness.
There is no fear, to feel darkness.
I am going without goodbye,
Remember me the way I fly. 

2/16/16 Haloo

For: AJ

For contest: My parting gifts
Sponsored by: Viv Wigley

Copyright © Pashang Salehi | Year Posted 2016

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Security Blanket

Security Blanket 

No chance of rain tonight,
No bogeyman, when I turn off the lights.
A phrase I found and adore with the warmth of your security.
You are the reason I attain true maturity.

I love when you lay down next to me,
Like the high tide of the sea,
You move all the warm emotions inside.
My arms are the comfort you use to seek and hide.

Your nestle holds a true rhythm that hums its own song~
Nothing comes close to breaking this precious bond~
A sweet cradle-song only I hear,
You play my grin, without the strings of a puppeteer.

My heartbeat needs its fix and drug,
Your sweet, charming smiles and hug, 
Is all I need to succeed, 
You are, my only creed!

A kiss, I give on your forehead,
Into a poet’s world where your blanket a dulcet lullaby, 
my arms are your bed.

“Goodnight Sweet Child, Sweet Child of Mine!”

By; pd

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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Mothers love

Mothers always have a special scent that our senses find so pleasant. In her presence my mind is always at ease, all is calm like a sweet Jasmine breeze. After all these years, her eyes still glow, take me to a place only her son would know. Her smile brings harmony to my heart, while her sad tears, tear me apart. Her hands have become fragile with age, tired from holding on, as storms would rage. Many have loved, but with time they left, but without your love, life is bereft. Through childhood you sang sweet lullabies with vibrant rainbows and butterflies. When you leave who will sing to me, how difficult life is going to be. All the sacrifices made in your life, never prevented your love being rife. When the world judged and brought me down, you smiled and told me never to frown. An unconditional love, so true, mother, I will be lost without you.
27 March 2016

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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The Broken Link

On sleepless nights I am led
To creep and kneel by your bed
To pray for your mother and me
But grief comes calling, you see
Gurgling from its endless base
It explodes out of my face
I shower your pillow with tears
Gagging on primal fears
Barking and spitting his rage
The monster howls from its cage
Backing me out to the edge
Of insanity's slippery ledge

The cord is severed I think
That unseen biological link
Has ripped loose down at the loins
And the wound bleeds from my groin
Like frayed rope snapping on a boat
The mangled end quivers and floats
Out in an endless abyss
Where my demons cackle and hiss
I rant, I plead and I pray
Still you keep drifting away
Hold on, I am with you my son
So tired, let go, it is done

*N/A in contest "Any Sad Poem" judged on 12/23/2015

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2009

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A telephone that seldom rings
So many songs I never sing
I open the door, but no ones there
Where are all the people who say they care
The world outside keeps going by
As I look out the window and try not to cry
Where did all the people go?
The ones I love, I miss them so
Long days turn into night
It's oh so lonely till early morning light
If I could only be what I used to be
I know how proud you'd be of me
But only then do I realize
The lord is very very close by
Then as I wipe away a tear from my eye
I hear him say, my child do not cry
And then I'm happy like I used to be
Because I know he's here for me

Copyright © Veronica Aicher | Year Posted 2012

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Marble in Columns on Green

On a slope graced with green
White marble stands in proud salute

For beneath these engraved pillars of memory
Lie the resting places of heroes

A solitary green fir looks down
As if sheltering the lost and the taken

So many names, from all walks of life
A father, brother a girlfriend or wife

On a sunny day, they glow radiant like their lives
On a dull day, they stand out against the greys

For the living, life goes on 
Tomorrow is another day

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

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God has a plan,
And it is out of my hands.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

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Log Cabin Sex Life

I can’t help but wonder, about the blunder, of building a one room log cabin,
Where man and wife, lived a private life, ‘til kids became real, not imagined

With no partitions, or new additions, you’d think their sex life would run ashore.
But they both knew, how to make it through, by inventing a thing called the chore.

As each kid did sprout, pa had to go out, and think up a new job for the tot.
He soon realized, that for his farm’s size, there were more tots then jobs to be got.

And the matriarch, made the remark, that inside we plum ran out of space.
So they tried to rid, their house of kids, as fast as were made in the first place.

At last the last lad, made a nice lass glad, got married and had a grand party,
But pa had ma’s hind, right on his mind; they arrived at the party, tardy.

Well all went ok, until the sad day, when the old man’s life ran out of time.
And then poor ma, lost her chutzpah, plus the cabin exceeded its prime.

So ma did call, her last son Paul, asked if he knew what she should do then,
He said oh dear, I just moved here, and that we don’t even have a den.

But son relents, and acts the gent, there is space in one nook of our room.
If you feed cows, and all the sows, cause heck ma, I’ve got a new bride groom.

Written 1/22/13

Copyright © David Fisher | Year Posted 2013

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3rd Son

Papa Adam and Mama Eve's third son

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2014

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Daddy's Guns

I love guns and I have plenty.
When Daddy passed he had near twenty

He kept them locked in the safe I built,
Loaded and ready with no blood spilt.

For him a gun was a precision tool,
Not to be handled by just any fool.

He taught us all how to use a gun.
Took us to hunt and we sure had fun.

The day before my Daddy died,
He called us each to his bed side

And gave us guns from his collection.
He knew we needed no direction.

We keep them cleaned and polished each
Remembering his final speech.

"Care for this and when you die,
Give it to your son - please try -

Make sure he knows its proper use.
Take it now - and don't refuse."

Copyright © Ray Dillard | Year Posted 2013

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Pushed and Pulled

Hear me, hear me, sound me out,
I don’t understand what you’re about.
Euphoric drugs to boost your brain?
Why they're dragging your senses down the drain.
They mask your mind and make you doubt,
at the slightest word, you’re prone shout.
Oh oh ohhhh, how they tear you apart.
A false embrace to numb your heart.
But why won't you see, that they can kill?
As they choke out your spirit and shatter your will.
They can turn a goal into the ultimate reason,
while your soul screams out at this unjust treason.

True ecstasy doesn’t come from a pill.
It’s an innate feeling, with a costless bill.
A weed is something that grows wild and free,
Not a joint that you roll up, upon your knee.
And crystal, a long mineral process, as in rock?
But now I’m hearing, it’s made around the clock.

Man oh man…...will you please wake up?
You’re drinking serenity from a broken cup.
The dealers will treat you as though you were swine,
for money always feeds, their greedy jowl minds.
And they don’t seek just money, but power as well,
as they man the controls of this highway to hell.

Oh yeah, I'm mean to tighten my grip,
to speak out my mind as I watch you trip.
You aren't the cog of a wheel at a county fair,
turning around aimlessly, but going nowhere.
I know you can kick this, and make out just fine,
but how about the others, the ones waiting in line?

Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald | Year Posted 2012

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I held you in my arms for the very first time, Elated my son was perfect, he was simply sublime. New life that I had pushed into the world, Precious baby, oh how my emotions whirled. With light blonde hair and eyes of blue I fell in love the very second I saw you Home from hospital, oh how our lives changed Took its toll on us - our sleep pattern rearranged! It is quite challenging getting used to being a new mum I wouldn’t have changed a moment with my precious son Everyday you flourished I was amazed how quickly you grew Crawling, walking ,talking there was always something new I was very lucky and didn’t get the baby blues You were so adorable, didn’t have the terrible twos You adored reading books and sitting next to me Friends would come to visit and you’d play happily You slept with your teddy he was called ‘Blue’ We had a duplicate teddy...but you never knew! How quickly the years passed, oh how time flies It’s over twenty years since I sang you lullabies From toddler to teenager you were our pride and joy I am truly blessed to have such an amazing boy At school you thrived and passed your qualifications Then worked in computers, traveling to far off locations Now you are away from home studying for your degree When you graduate the proudest mum in the world will be me! You fill our lives with laughter and joy, I love you so much my wonderful boy. Contest: My Lovely Child Sponsor: LuLoo 02~09~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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Indigenous I Am, from the Stolen Generations

This is a journey, a trip call it what you will It follows the footsteps of my ancestors, and allows my thoughts too spill Firstly let me take you back, to tell you so little of my past Indigenous I am, from the "Stolen Generations" I did not last This is why I must make this journey, to allow me to find the real me To retrace the few steps I made, to rediscover what my young eyes seen How ironic that the person I'll ride with, is the son of the then official Whose deliberation to round up us children, the scene, locale It's now the morn of our travel, where I look I find hard to see The peripheral of the distant horizon, is all that really captures me The town where I grew up so young, barely to the age of five Perth, now bustles like a termites nest, zig zagging in busily strive Into the bush we go, to a place where us youngsters so enjoyed Moore River Native Settlement, which soon became children void As I walk my arid lands, patterned in the heat of this day I recall with every step, where us Indigenous children played We could survive on the smallest of fruit, water we could easily find Even the son of the then official, said that we are a superior kind He marvelled when I spotted tracks, traces of where animals crossed Remembering back to when I was five years old, our lands always talked We opened up as we led our horses, introduced all those centuries ago They opened up my lands, rivers we walked, now the white man flows This is a journey I had to make, it's called, it's in my will No more "Stolen Generations" no more will my culture spill

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2012

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Dad Never Knew His Father

Dad never knew his father.  That soldier died in a war.
All Dad heard was brief stories of the man that went before.
Grandma had some pictures and some medals on a wall.
But Dad never knew his father which was what mattered most of all

I’ve done some family history, and seen the ship’s manifest.
I’ve heard again the story of the good ship Lafayette--
How Grandma and her children searched the waves for periscopes,
Knowing that one torpedo could blow away all of their hopes.

This could have been in any war.  Soldiers die and families flee.
But this was the family story that was handed down to me.
It started in old England, then to an immigration line:
A 3-year-old at Ellis Island, in July 1939.

They fled their burning country, to be called “war refugees”.
With help from an old uncle and a kind community,
Grandma made a new start here in the land of liberty.
They learned that Grandpa was killed in ‘44 in Italy.

I found online the letter, that my Grandma didn’t see,
About how the Sergeant-Major’s infantry company
Was caught out in the open by Wehrmacht artillery.
The letter said he didn’t suffer.  Was he really killed instantly?

I never knew my Grandpa, though I was named after him.
Though I served a different flag, I was a soldier like him.
I’ve seen my father’s scrapbook, and Grandpa’s medals on the wall.
But I never knew my Grandpa which was what mattered most of all.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

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Little Children

Oh, what a joy little children are ! Juice in the video, sick in the car. Untidy bedroom, scattered toys, girls playing nurses with little boys. Dogs' tails being pulled, a cat's on fire, interrupting the moments of love and desire. Passing the blame for their little crimes, playing with frogs all covered in slime. Screaming their heads off in a plush restaurant, having a tantrum when refused what they want. Arriving home late covered in mud, not going to bed when they know they should. Non-stop talking while dad's watching telly, splashing the walls with ice-cream and jelly. Chocolate stains on their Sunday best, painting funny pictures on granddad's vest. Why do parents' voices echo from afar, Oh, what a joy little children are !

Copyright © Ken Duddle | Year Posted 2012

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If Only We Had More Time

I’d have whispered “you're daddy's little boy,”
snuggled in my arms, filling me with joy.
We'd of explored mountain caves, parks and glades,
snapping pictures when you first stood on blades.
And we'd have gazed up at the stars above,
feeling secure in the bond of our love.
And together we'd have journeyed the earth,
embracing the miracle of your birth.

If only we had more time...

I would have told you of the golden rule,
teaching subtle lessens, not taught in school.
And during your early, formative years,
I would've eased your hurts, and wiped your tears.
You'd have entered your teens chasing your dreams,
standing defiant in your torn blue jeans.
And we would have discussed the birds and bees,
learning about life, as we skinned our knees.

If only we had more time...

My heart would have filled with a father's pride,
as you knelt at the altar with your bride.
Gentle tears saved to bless your wedding day,
are unable to wash my grief away.
Less than a year among those who love you, 
we’re gathered today to wish you adieu. 
I think of the many things we'd have done,
and how very much I love you my son.

If only we had more time...

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

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A Gift You Are - My Lovely Children

A Gift You Are Who would have thought I would be blind To eternal sunshine that’s mind The day you were born was the beginning My heart's petals bloomed most compelling Tears of joy I shed while I saw you smile In my arms I knew the pain was worthwhile Lullabies sung and hummed to bring comfort sleep As you lay in your crib without a peep Challenges as you grew with bumps and bruises with footfalls Sticky fingers, scattered toys, fancy artwork on the walls Meaningful memories as I look into your eyes Of the mischief you use to get into, but I was wise I'll always be here whenever you need me Stand by you, whoever you decide to be Eternal sunshine that was mind is still my total joy Don’t ever forget you will always be my little boy 2/9/2016 This is dedicated to my three wonderful sons that I cradled in my arms and wish I still was <3 My Lovely Children - Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Laura Loo

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2016

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For My Little Boy

For my little boy, 
who brings me so much pride and joy.

He captured my heart, 
but then he did from the start.

It is really quite simple, 
with his smile and his dimple.

I will be sad when he grows up, 
but there is one thing I am sure of.

He will always be mine, 
forever entwined.

Publish "Simply Me: Poems"
Publish "From Me To You: Poems"
available paperback and e-book on amazon.

That I have to post this upsets me:
My poems are copyright. I am sharing my
poems for you to read not for you to
post willy-nilly to a website, in
your newsletter or anywhere else with out
my permission. I am available, leave me a
message. Especially to those who change
the name of my poem and not give proper
credit. You should be ashamed!

Copyright © Alesia Leach | Year Posted 2014

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Oh Boy

Hey, this is nice floating around in here
No sweat and no strain, got nothing to fear

Whoa! What is this? (Don't mean to complain)
I think I got flushed down somebody's drain

Ouch! What's the deal? Must you be so damn rough?
I refuse to come out! Don't like it? That's tough!

Crap, I'm exhausted; just too tired to fight
The lights! The lights! Turn off the freekin' lights!

Slap ME on the ass? That hurts you old cow!
Okay! I'm screaming! You satisfied now?------

Hello, pleased to meet'cha, and who might be you?
Daddy? Yeah, right, so what else is new?

Good lord, I'm burnt out, I could use a short rest
Where? Well okay, right here on your chest?

Wow, this is cool! It's really kinda neat
Like hearing the sound of your gentle heartbeat

Yes, rock me a little, I sure won't refuse
And hum me a tune while I take a quick snooze...

* I had the pleasure and privilege of being the first to hold my son Daniel after he was born.

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2013

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A Tear That Is His

                           That same raindrop catches me either in the sun or shade...
                            The clouds look all the same but for a few that won't fade...
                                        The taste of a tear is always on my tongue...
                                                A salty spice from a cry not sung...
                                             I look up to Heaven to see who it is...
                                               My unborn child , a tear that is his...

                                                      written by Michael J Falotico
                                                         Falling Raindrop contest
                                                        sponsored by Carol Brown

Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2012

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You hate your dad, I know
but I can't choose between you two...just no

I'm sorry.
You're right, I probably would never see
how bad I screwed up, but
without you, I've gone nuts.

Seriously, I will keep trying
to have you back, 'cause I'm crying.
I don't wanna lose you, o.m.g.
I'm really sorry...

I know I was a terrible girl
but I'm a clam and you're my pearl.
Without you, I have no value
without you, I'm no longer cool

I missed  everything we've been through.
Your voice when you sing, I'm glued to you.
Hey, I'm still your number one fan
and you'll always be my sweet, young man.

you're the water, and he's the sun
without you both, I'd be done

I hope you can just understand
I'll always wanna hold your hand
no matter what happened, I'll love you still.
We used to hang and used to chill.
now I'm mad we can't do that
but again, it's my fault the balloon went splat.

I'm desperate to hear you say
'I love you mom, it'll always be this way'
I want your forgiveness, seriously
I'm really sorry.

Copyright © Celine Tran | Year Posted 2013

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My bundle of endless joy He's my sweet little baby boy Just yesterday he was my new born son Look, how quickly my little one has turned one. He won't crawl neither would he walk However, has his way through his babbling talk! The whole day long he's just having fun Moving around, jumping on his bum!! He's a gritty explorer, sans any fear He instructs us all: loud and clear. Very much like other bratty boys He bangs and shatters his sister's toys! He pinches and pulls her hair, yet gets away She kisses and cuddles him: loves him anyways. To his favourite songs, he would shimmy-wiggle-jiggle, It would make his sis uncontrollably giggle! As much naughty as it gets When he sways his silky ringlets Shaking his head from left to right With a dimpled smile, my,my what a sight! I simply can't describe how it felt When he said, "mamma" my heart just melt! A racing car, Minnie doll, his phone and his ball: He knows them well and says it all. He hushes with a "shh" the whistle of a cooker He can tell you from miles, the sound of a cracker! Mimics the donkey and the crow, counts very well his one-two, He calls out for the lift and can stop an "autooo"! He daily prays to God, loves ringing the temple bell. So, my charming handsome boy is devoted and smart as well! My rock star baby, you have me bedazzled!

Copyright © Yesha Shah | Year Posted 2012

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Gone, but not Forgotten

You'll never be forgotten, though you're no longer here.
It seems like only yesterday, but it's been over forty years!

Other children have been taken, yes, of course, we know!
But, to us, you are a treasure and we still love you so!

You were only with us, two plus years, they say that time will heal.
But, although it's been a long, long time, the pain is still so real!

God knew that you were suffering, He knew you were in pain!
So He decided to releave you, from the Tumor in your brain!

He took you up to Heaven, son, to give eternal rest!
He placed you in His garden, where He only keeps the best!

I'm wishing I could take a peek, in that garden, in some way,
to see just how you're doing, and make sure that you're O.K.

It broke our hearts the day you left, when the Good Lord called you home.
Bobby, part of us went with you, you did not go alone!

No, you'll never be forgotton son, what more is there to say!
You're always in our thoughts and prayers, we miss you more each day.

Copyright © RALPH TAYLOR | Year Posted 2012

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                  IMPRESS ME SON

Brevity is the span of life, it is so short ;
But linear is victory without any short-cut.

The world you see now is a battle field ;
Doggedness is the only mean to the yield.

A hand that sowingly itself deceives;
Cries in vain upon what it later  receives.

Be not a leaner but self reliant;
Hunt not fly nor ant but kill the giant.

Remember,the whole world is yours;
Limitation is in nowhere but in us.

Impress me son now that I may   smile;
That I may be proud of you in Niger or Nile.

Behold, you are the last leg of my race;
Fail not son, in your hand is the ace.

User’s name  : Kayod5.
Contest         : Impress me ll !.
Sponsor        : Giorgio V.

Copyright © KAYOD5 Kayode | Year Posted 2014

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Past Time

I am ten and crossing home.
Two players missed it, as it rolls on and on.
An error if you're scoring the play,
but I call it a home run on my first day.
I am ten, and I have found my first love
in a tattered ball, and a hand-me-down glove.

I am twenty, and I am throwing hard.
Beading sweat, please stay in the yard!
Each pitch thrown with a hope and a prayer.
Scholarship athletes can't be only fair.
Medical school looms larger than the Show.
A privilege for few, but I don't want to go.

I am thirty and I cannot put it down.
Sundays the old men come around.
Love of the game a common bond.
The bat is no longer a magic wand.
Reminiscing about those bygone days.
I can no longer beat out those close plays.

I am forty, and I watch with delight.
My own boys throwing with all their might.
A lump in my throat, a moist eye.
I contentedly look on and sigh.
I've passed down the love to the next generation,
and I wouldn't trade that for a standing ovation.

Copyright © James Nichols | Year Posted 2012

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Point Lobos Paths

Last Fall, my church's Scouts and I went hiking.

A few miles north of Big Sur’s coast,
There is a forested park much to our liking.

Point Lobos is the nature preserve that I love most.

The beauty there is supernal, beyond description.

We chose our trails with maps and compasses,
And practiced local plant identification.

I pointed out Monterey Pines and Cypresses.

For a time we climbed a steep inclination.

We looked down into a cove, home of sea otters,
From a viewpoint near the old whalers’ station.

We climbed through a cleft worn down by waters.

That Saturday outing wasn’t a total disaster.

The boys passed tasks to advance in ranks.
Life doesn’t get much better for an old Scoutmaster.

Lastly, to the Great Spirit we all gave thanks.

For Goethe Stanzas contest

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

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My Lord and Savior

If you mess with me
You're messing with an anointed pedigree

I follow God
He knows that I am flawed

Who He loves
I'll love

How He wants me to pray
I'll pray

Who he sends my way
I'll invite in my life with open arms

I won't forsake Him
Just as He won't forsake me

I know His Son died for me
Just knowing that alone has me in tears

Knowing that He loves me enough
To sacrifice His Son

God is my Lord
Jesus is my Savior

The Father of the Savior
Has given up his Son so that I may live free of Sin

Knowing that I can talk to Him anytime, any day, anywhere
Has me dropping to my knees

I pour my soul and heart into every prayer
I know He hears all I say

Most times He'll answer my prayer easily
Other times I have to work for the answer

In the end everything is going to be alright
Because I love Him and He love me

Copyright © Bryanna Williams | Year Posted 2012

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A Mothers Thoughts Of her son

I wish that things could be
The way they used to be
When you were so young and really needed me
But times have to change and you had to grow
To the wonderful man that we've all come to know
It's nice to look back at your wonder years
With so much love and pride and a few little tears
I'm so very grateful to have a son like you
And I'll always love you unconditionally
No matter where you go or what you do

Copyright © Veronica Aicher | Year Posted 2012

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As a child you are a free bird
Playing hide and seek, here and there
Controlling a crumbling child is truly hard
So your mother cooks up threats of invisible monster

Your twinkling eyes may be fearless
Designed devil may drive your distress, high
Smile sprouting from your rosy lips may become baseless
But your mother breaths with a sigh

Your wrist may be tender
In a crowd, she may drag you like a handcuffed criminal
You may feel, as if things are out of order
But mother ensures your safety as cardinal

Your skin may be beautiful and fair
You may like to play in the open sun
To let you out, your mother may scare
Fearing your skin may get tan

Reading aloud restrictions, may get you to burst
She focus to shape your life, decent
She knows what may happen in the worst 
As every child is naturally innocent

Only out of her own anxiety
She may at times harshly talk
She does many things to fit you into the society 
As raising a child is never a cake walk

Each action helps your personality to build
Parenting is an onerous task 
Every endeavor is to turn you as an effective child
You shall admit later, if one were to ask   

She cautiously weighs each choice of your freedom
With a reasonable rating of good and bad
She chooses to tap her own childhood wisdom
As responsibility of raising you, drives her hard

She sets the path to learn
When you win or loose, mother understands
Whenever required, she tends to horn
Learn to lead life, as your mother commands!

Above poem is adapted from the eBook “BIRD OF PARADISE AND OTHER POEMS ” by Mr.V.Muthu manickam. Copyright is held by Mr.V.Muthu manickam.

Copyright © V.MUTHU MANICKAM | Year Posted 2016

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Eyes do Weep

When my son was young and so very, very wild… 
I loved him dearly for he was my child.
But I feared the drugs, alcohol, and friends he did keep.
I knew they would destroy him, as I found my Eyes do weep.

We found a private High school with new peers to seek.
Miraculously, He found his own way back, and to college he did leap.
He chose a college and fraternity far away, as my eyes blurred again.
But the day he was on his own, became the best that’s ever been.

His fraternity became his brothers, and advice they dished out.
Study time became important, with gentlemanly behavior devout.
I’ll thank them each, in the leadership and help they all showed.
I’ll thank my son for growing up, and for becoming who we now know.
Community service brought blood drives, and teaching inner city kids.
They worked on their fraternity house, reclaiming it from the skids.
All parties had designated drivers to take every body home, all right.
They gathered clothes for the homeless to brighten up their life.
They built Homes For Humanity for to work he was never adverse.
Then, to add to the rest, he continued to work to become a nurse. 
He put himself through college working in a hospital and ambulance.
He had learned a reverence for life, happiness, and yes, even patience.
My wild, wild son has found purpose in life and peace at long last.
And again my eyes do weep… This time with love so vast...

Written 11-09-2011

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2011