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Introspection Daughter Poems | Introspection Poems About Daughter

These Introspection Daughter poems are examples of Introspection poems about Daughter. These are the best examples of Introspection Daughter poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

AS FATHER IS TO HIS DAUGHTER


Passing through framed windows like ours, I recall your tales of reckless war and lost friends that burned your innocence at 21... and though you claimed flashes of courage, moist eyes poured vulnerability looking calm, undaunted. We both searched deeply into our souls as a father is to his young daughter, that I wanted to let you know, it was alright; but that mound of shoulders turned away. Down the years as officer and gentleman, Time stole long weeks, absent from your dining chair, leaving me resentful and bitter on hardened sills until you arrive under crawling dock of stars. But in free moments, how you cherished me so; waking my cheeks at 3 am to race the winds, to fly with a shooting neon, laughing with a blue moon. You spoke of faith and honor if life dared a shame, oh mild scent of your arms cuddling my girlish dreams... until off you rode suddenly on heaven’s wheel. I see you through all framed windows like ours, that even if my iced breaths needed you more as small flowers thirsted for rain, my anger was a cry for love’s company... “ I have adored you in moments of distance and nearness, if not always, then for all eternity.” Have I forgotten to open this, my soft, broken sigh? Dad, everything is all right. The Confessional Contest

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Little Yellow Socks

* Written for my daughter, who really does have a precious pair of Little Yellow Socks.

Little Yellow Socks
       by Amy Swanson  12/5/2008

Little yellow socks
running down the hall
"Slow down with those socks on,"
I'd yell... too late, the fall!

Little yellow socks
padding softly late at night
climbing up into my lap
one more hug, out goes the light.

Little yellow socks
follow me with squeals of laughter;
Oh how she loves to run in them,
Begging me to come chase after!

Little yellow socks...
now not being worn a lot.
My little girl is growing up,
No longer just a tot.

Little yellow socks
will be cast aside someday
I must guard these precious moments;
in my heart, they'll safely stay.

Copyright © Amy Swanson | Year Posted 2008

Details | Couplet | |

The Homeplace

Here further down the hillside slope
Down close to the creek with hope

My husband bought a house, land
Fenced in and made many plans

Subdued the land to cow pasture
And planted a garden, fruit trees sure

Fathered another child to call him sir
The creek seemed to like the stir

Enjoyed the children for a little while___
Loved them so that it made her smile

Today she loves grandchildren the same
No girls there are in frills ___tame

The creek keeps on flowing to the sea
The land is mostly stripped of trees


(This is my adaptation of Robert Frost's poem "The Birthplace".  I hope that it does not insult 
his work.)

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Traces - Anima

One evening, much like any other striated feathers of pinks, and deepest primrose colored the clouds with facets of light, tapering inward Traces of gold between each color, as deep and clear as the sages The red sun overhead, had grown weary with seasons, and did not seem to notice that we were mother and child Whispering sounds of emerald breezes did not label me wise, nor her naive' We were two who walked equally, side by side She lifted her voice, and spoke with an eloquence I had not heard before, and it was just as the twilight calls to the stars.... so that they will know just what to do Young spruces stood bolt upright, every twig stiff with interest, and with deep respect at her every word as if they were watching transformation in tandem, an exchange so delicately detectable And in one clinging moment, to the other, one of us was letting go of childhood, and one was letting go of the child Both of us looking to the sky for recognition I watched the sycamore shed, beneath its load of yellow, rust and gold Letting them quietly go, without remorse while I did the same
_______________________________________

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Child's Peace

Tell me of your peace. 
Let it tell your story now
Of trials and tribulations, a tale not of dreams
Weary from a journey of self-discovery
My child, know the comfort in your peace
You feel hope in this familiar place 
As it gently sloughs the pain away 
Tell me of your peace 
In which we all are blessed and free
Search throughout your soul sweet child
Peer not within your cluttered mind 
Look out to rest your tired eyes but do not let them see
Solace found strewn upon daily thoughts is fleeting at it's best
Lasting merely moments, in untouched souls a true peace 
Oh yes! You'll know when you arrive but only you will know 
The world will melt away as a candle left under the blazing sun
Away away, until you feel home again, an unguided familiar scene
An innocence once lost is restored, all sins suddenly forgiven
Soaking this in with relucant ease, 
Breathe it deep with a slow release
Take it in, delight in details you discover
Be calm here child, please have no fear, I am here 
You are safe in this place of yours, no hurt no tears
We share not the same peace, no no
Unique to each of us, yet stranger to none
Trust in more than what you see, know beauty is within reach
We share this unspoken bond of freedom from ourselves
Please young one, listen closer now 
I say, leave it all behind you love, it will only weigh you down
Cleanse yourself of careless words and careful lies 
I know you're weary, let go of all you carry
Don't be afraid, here you are burden free 
Trust in you, blessed one, it's easier than you believe
Sweet child, tell me now if you see
Peace resting deep within 
Waiting for you
For you to let it be

Copyright © Gabrielle Charisse | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

The Dandelions Were Listening

I never did the 
''He loves me not....
He loves me'' game
with flowers.
I already knew nobody loved me
so why should I listen 
to a stupid flower? 

I did make wishes 
on dandelions 
after the bloom died
and it was tiny spikes of fluff
waiting to blow away 
till next year.

I hated wasting my time
but I couldn't resist.
I figured
''If there's even a small hope
that this will work....
I've got to try! ''

I would find a spot
where nobody could see me
and I'd whisper
my one wish
the same wish
every time.

Thousands of dandelions 
blown away 
by my pleading breath.

I never told a soul
my wishes.
Until now.
I wished to be happy
one day...
with a husband 
who loves me
and kids who love me.
I wished so hard...

I never thought
those dandelions
were listening.

Copyright © Mary Nagy | Year Posted 2006

Details | Rhyme | |

My Parent

My Parent

The rules said “one parent not two”
Good for me as I only had you
No selection; no one to choose
Who is this parent; just follow the clues

Next rule; write something “profound” 
Something good or something that makes you frown
This one was easy 
Considering all you ever said was greasy

“You stupid _____”
This one was rich
“Go get the belt”
Not satisfied till there was a welt 
The pain is still felt

How about “you swine”
Became a preference in time
Not “go to bed”
Followed by a blow to the head
So hard could have become brain dead

Your scars are still here
Your pain I still wear
Your mistakes I still bare
Your voice I still hear

Your secrets I now declare
Your presence I no longer fear
Your wrong doings I am aware
Your hate is replaced with tender loving care

Did you follow the clues
Who's this in reference to
Someone you want to be related to
Perhaps it’s someone you already do
This is my parent… I wish it were untrue!

Lay


**For "My Parent" contest sponsored by Francine Roberts.
* Honorable Mention






Copyright © Walayee Poet Lay Whitlock-Ishway | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Little Long-Legs

Little Long-Legs
         by Amy Swanson

Running to me

           with big hugs
                     
                    and even bigger brown eyes


smile full of mischief

arms thrown around my neck

           --- almost choking me!--- 
                        *smile*

"I love you Mommy!"

                         my little "Long-Legs"

how fast you have grown.

Almost as tall 
           
                as your short mama

*but then that wouldn't take much*
                  --wink!--


I smile

     remembering a time

                when my little Long-Legs

                               ... my long-legged girl...

had little bitty
                     short legs
                                    just learning how to toddle around the house
                                                           (falling over!)

crawling faster than I could walk

            running to keep up with her...!...

                           purple baby food plums smeared across a happy smiling mouth

full of giggles

and smiles

with no idea how cruel this world can be;

pure innocence.

Pure contentment.

                       Oh how time flies.

She's nine next week

   birthday princess

toddler toys long gone;

she wants a bike

         so she can ride like the wind --

                       already the taste of freedom in her mouth

                                           already the feel of freedom in her spirit

another step...
       away from me.

        But she knows

          I will always

*and, somehow, forever*

  watch over my little girl
    
        even when she is no longer little.


She smiles at me

                  teeth slightly crooked

                                     hair brushed all by herself

and asks "Do you like my style?"

          already planning her fashion agenda

like every "big girl" does.


My almost-nine year old girl
 
  born on lucky clover day

       March 17th, 2000

the day she changed my life
             *my world*         
 
                      so grown up, so soon...

                                 and I know more is on the way.

What I don't know

         is how this mother's heart will fare

when one day she leaves.


You make my life complete

          sunshine girl

  full of tickles and giggles


I love you so, 
                     my little Long-Legs.

Copyright © Amy Swanson | Year Posted 2009

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Better (by kimmy holmes my daughter)

i
am so special
i
won't suck you dry
i 
need to be someone
I
have such anger
i
am a stranger
to myself, myself

I promise to me
to let myself be free
I WILL do better

I WILL forget
the things said
be better, no regret

I will be better 
than you
I already am
Damn...

Copyright © janetta harrington | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse | |

Baby Girl (For Asante Indira)

Baby girl,
How do I write my love upon the moon?
How do I
Tell how a father's trust upon you swoon
Or inform
Your silence where belonging longs?
I so old
Fashion, filled with forms so clothed in wrongs
Afraid this
Telling of the heart weakens fiber of the man
And often
The pain in me is more than you can understand
Of a fear
That if I relent you may in my weakness fall
And leave me
More desolate that Christ before he drank his gall.
O this love
A wave incessant in tidal force against the rock
Makes the sands
That runs determinant in my crystal clock.

Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009

Details | Concrete | |

Woman

                                          
                                           VVV
                                          I I I
                                       XXX
                                     EEE
                                  NNN
                                         P VV
                                     A    II
                                   S     XX
                                  S      EE
                                I        NN
                                O        F
                                 N     O
                                      X
               Vixen    doll
         B                 
         E
         A                  Hot
         U               Shot
         T            Mama
          I          Not Afraid
          F      At All
         U     To
         L      Be Free
         l         With             
        a          Her
        d           Sexuality
       y               Dangerous
      w               m  Curviest
      i                 a      Thing you’ve
     l                  k          Ever Seen
   d                 e              Self-Esteem
                      s                 Is higher than
                     M                  Mountains
                    E                     Love flows deeper
                   N                       Surges Greater 
                  c                          Than any river
                  r                            Emotions as unchanging as the sea
                a                             Modern Day
               z                           Super Hero
              y                          Working hard
           W                         Daily
          I                         To defeat
      L                      Sexual Inequalities
  D                  Worthy of stealing
                 Any man’s fancy
               Vivacious
             Sensuous
           Respect the
          Woman
        Woman
        Woman
       The Women
        In Our
          Society
           Please
              


[Dedicated to the Women, the strong, the brave, the merciful]
[The Mothers, the Daughters, the Wives]
[ the women who make up our lives]

Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme | |

A Mother's Love


A Mother’s Love… How precious is the love of a mother’s heart! Even as a child… It’s there from the start. A mother’s love knows no boundary or limit. It’s often shown by how much the mother gives it! Whether her children are young or growing old… And whatever circumstances in life may unfold… Her love is continually a solid foundation… That can’t be removed, torn or shaken. Her love is what is a “guiding force…” Even if her children’s lives stray “off course.” I’m thankful for the love my mother’s given… It’s surely influenced the way I’ve been livin’! To all of our mothers across our great nation… May we show them our love and appreciation! Their love has stood and endured the test of time… I’m so glad that one of them is MINE! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

Sharing with My Mother

The more I try to reassure my mother,
The more she suspects...

The concerns and cares I shoulder,
I conceal and collect.

Her ears keen to the notes I offer,
My anxiety she dissects.

Taking on more as I grow older,
Less her fear affects.

Understanding her and less eager,
I share all; she accepts, connects.

Copyright © Misheel Chuluun | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy | |

ELEGY TO LOST CHILD

                                        Elegy to Child Lost


                                 Passion's love oft tempts despair
                                 Casts a prideful cosmic dare--
                                 Like Prizing Joy's most intimate caress
                                 Babe snug beneath a mother's breast

                                Senses at this time are keen
                                There's no secret kept between
                                Loving mother, wriggling babe--
                                Wanted , dreamed of, much delayed
                                But entwined twin was also loved--
                                Some say Nature's method proves
                                That one twin may give all to mate---
                                But this fatal sacrifice must decimate.

                                Only mother's eyes would feel babe's smiles--
                                or sense those legs that wandered miles
                                And daring feet that danced in tunes while
                                Arms swam in gentle Celtic croons.

                                When babe vanished--not  a sound.
                                Mother 's grief was not allowed.
                                Tempted so to trail behind
                                Escaping shattered troubled mind. 

                                Squelching sorrow's hungry arms
                                She Tried erase babe's fluttering charms
                                Never spoke of-- never mourned.
                                By her husband she was warned
                                Was best forget a child so early lost--
                                Funerals, gravestones--such a cost--

                                But the years have called babe near,
                                Mother's journal writ in tears:
                                'Please forgive my selfish heart.
                                Repressed from all --this tragic part
                                I felt your sacrificial act--
                                You left your cherished twin intact'.

                                There is no law of random acts
                                Doctors examine data facts
                                It may be --that in the womb
                                When both spring flowers cannot bloom
                                One bold twin refrains to eat
                                Compels the other to complete
                                Hardy growth that life requires---
                                Sparks survival's crucial hours.

                                Not an accident 'tis sure--
                                Boldest spirits blossom pure.


Victoria Anderson-Throop ©

Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? | |

Non Oblitus

Tonight,
I found myself.
I remembered who I am…
or who I used to be.
I remembered that
I was strong.
I was a fighter.
I was a survivor.
I was steel.
I'd bend,
but I would never break.
Tonight,
I remembered that 
I am my father's daughter.
And I don't need someone,
anyone...
to lift me up,
to carry me,
to save me. 
I can lift myself up.
I can overcome anything.
I can save myself.
I am my father's daughter.
Non Oblitus…
Not forgotten.
Our family crest,
our motto,
our creed.
It is what he believed.
What he lived
and it is what I honour.
What I won't ever forget.
is that
I am strong.
I am a fighter.
I am a survivor.
I am steel.
I'll bend
but I won't ever break.
And I don't need saving.
I can save myself, thank you.
Non Oblitus...
Not forgotten,
that to my innermost core,
I am…my father's daughter.

Copyright © Lori Thomson | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? | |

WHO AM I BY NAME ALONE

I am God's child, first and forever I am known by many different titles, a daughter I am a wife I am a mother I am a grandmother I am a poet I am by several ways, known as a sister I am an acquaintance I am a loyal friend I am a stranger I am a cousin I am an Auntie I am a niece But who is this person, they all call "Denise?" She is a child to God She is a niece She is a cousin She is a stranger She is a loyal friend She is an acquaintance She is known to many, a sister She is a poet She is a grandmother She is a mother She is a wife She is known as a daughter to many She is everything, she'd ever dreamed her life to be.... She is happier than she ever imagined possible SHE IS "DENISE"

Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

Decisions

Lord, I do not know what to do;
Please, lead me by Your side.
Decisions I'm facing are lost and through;
Please, lead me to do what's right.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

LIFE IS A PLAY - JOURNAL XV

LIFE IS A PLAY – JOURNAL XV

But there is a meadow
I would see in a dream 
With wild flowers rife
The most in a dream I’ve ever seen

For the view spreads endlessly
The golden bloom never fades
But stops only at some foothills,
Rolling, receding like ocean jade

The sky – and I under – a so deep light
      blue
I’d have me lay right down
Lost in its vast, interstellar view

As seeker I’ll invent me a stream
One that invitingly froths and bubbles
That I may lay down,
Float away all life’s troubles

Oh, maker of plots
I yearn to see a land far away
Where soul only resides
And happiness, peace name of the play

Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

happy haiku 2


my daughter’s short birth
becomes the perfect haiku –--------
life free of the cut

Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy | |

Outside My Window

Outside My Window

I sit on Dad's heavenly bed as I pen this write
The mournful heart looks outside
The window which for the moment is mine
I view with his eyes and the heart inflates
The orchard is blooming ready for fruiting, but
The hedges look wild while lawn's not mowed
His cane chair is empty while mother is beside
The newspaper lies folded on the tea-tray with specs
The tangerines in pots dangling near to death
None to tell my brooding dear mother 
'Preserve them in bottles before the season is out'.

FOURTH
Balveen Cheema
September 12, 2015
Contest: Outside My Window
Sponsor: Bev Smith


Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

A Box of Hope and Dreams

I keep my dreams and aspirations,
stored away neatly in this box.
Tied off with a pretty pink ribbon,
secured tightly with key and lock.

And every time I feel like a failure,
I open it, so I can again feel alive.
Arms of dreams tightly surround me,
giving me strength I need to survive.

I’ve hidden this box in a secret place,
where I’m the only who can see.
A beautiful box of hopes and dreams,
finely sewn with love at the seams.

This box is opened quite frequently,
especially when we’re apart –
this rhetorical box of memories,
in perfect synch with each beat of my heart

Copyright © Stacy Stiles | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

It Almost Seems LIke Yesterday


It Almost Seems Like Yesterday… It almost seems like yesterday, I was very young. I was playing with my friends and having so much fun! It almost seems like yesterday, we were a loving family! I was excited about life and so very content and happy! It almost seems like yesterday, we were at church on Sunday! How much I dreaded gong to school the next Monday! It almost seems like yesterday, I’d go to work with grandpa! I’d look forward to having some time with grandma! It almost seems like yesterday, I’d read my Bible too! I loved Jesus! And this was what I waned to do! It almost seems like yesterday, an excitement was there! A passion for my family and God, I wanted to share! It almost seems like yesterday, that I met my sweet wife. And the blessing she’s been for a good part of my life! It almost seems like yesterday, when our kids were born. God helped us through the many trials and storms! What happened yesterday brings memories loud and clear. The things I hold on to today shall one day disappear! What happens today… May it bring me to the God I once knew! May I seek his will and direction In everything I do! What happens tomorrow… I don’t know what the future brings! I’m going to put my faith in God. He’ll take care of everything! What will happen today, is that I’ll take some time in prayer! I know that God is faithful! And will meet me there! Yesterday is the past!. Today is a present God has given! And I will follow him, each day I'm livin'! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)





Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

I'm Not the Kind of Person God Wants Me to Be

I’m not the kind of person I need to be! There’s too many problems inside of me! I’m not the kind of person you’d want to know… I’ve too many worries and a troubled soul! I’m the kind of person who has a lot of stress! Lately, my life has been one big mess! I’m the kind of person who doesn’t have a friend. You listen to me now… But may never see me again! I’m the kind of person who’s gone through pain! I wake up some days, and don’t even know my name! I may not be the kind of person you’d want to be around. I may get discouraged, and “get you down.” I’m the kind of person who’s giving Jesus a chance… I know he loves me! Whatever the circumstance! I’m the kind of person who needs a lot of prayer! I know that God listens! And is always there! Please help me Jesus! That I may be set free! May it be your love that others will see! Thank you Jesus! For being my savior and friend! You’re someone that this person can always depend! I’m not the kind of person that Jesus wants me to be! That’s why I need more of HIM! And LESS of me! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

MUSIC - HAIKU

Play The Radio Get Up And Dance All Night Long Music Heals The Soul

Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Life Can Be Cruel

I cannot get into heaven
God I have tried!
Suicide is a double edge sword
Especially when you survive!
Walking the streets at night
Dazed and confused
Longing to be loved
Wondering...
When is Mum, coming for me?

"Does she still love me?"
"Does she still care?"
"Does she still think of me?"
"Does she wonder, where I am?"

I want her to come find me
I want her to say she 'loves me’
I want her to comfort me
I want her to take me home
And keep me safe
And not forget hat I exist
Like the way she treats me now

I wish God 
Could make my Mum
Magically appear
Making this hellish nightmare
On the street
Disappear!

“Send my Mum please!”
So, all this can end!
Before this last ray of hope
Diminishes for good!

I don’t want to become
The walking dead
Forever forgotten as if 
I was never born!
For this is the cruel, harsh reality
Of living life, feeling unloved
Uncared for, abandoned,
Left to fend for my own

A dangerous killer inside me
Eating away, at my soul
Something, no one can see
As I suffer in silence
My insides crippling!

Lost, alone and frightened
Weeping on a dirty
Graffiti park bench
Dirty tears
Rolling down my cheeks
Stuffing newspapers under my jumper
To keep myself warm

“What am I going to do?”

“Will I make it through the night?”
“Will I get raped and beaten?”
"Will I be left for dead?”
“Will I survive
To see another day?

“Is my life worth living?”

Please God, I beg of you
Have mercy now
Please show me the way!

Copyright © Amy Rose | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

If I Had One Wish

So many thoughts come to mind If only I could really go back in time Change or undo my life’s violent and sexual crimes Tell those around me to open their eyes Pay Attention to the signs If only one wish could really rewind Those pedophilic hands of my life-time… Then I stopped and started to think Who would I be if this didn’t happen to me? What of the woman I’d come to be The wisdom I’d come to see And my children who’s lives are abuse free As a result of my past… my history… Now, with eyes wide and mind free Heart pounding, air, LOVE and life in me Blessed with children to change my legacy, Equipped with words and strength to share my story… my poetry I’d wish only to open the eyes of the blind The mouths of the abused and the hearts of our society… I’d make them see… I’d make them see So no other child has to end up like me… Lay
** For the "If I Had One Wish Contest"

Copyright © Walayee Poet Lay Whitlock-Ishway | Year Posted 2011

Details | ABC | |

blank page (by kimmy holmes my daughter)

see this blank
not me
NOT ME

Copyright © janetta harrington | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

A Mother's Ears


I have her face, so I've been told, and traces of her eyes of blue  
The glimpse of gold within her soul,  I can only pray to hold, so near

As eyes go,...she had two pair, the ones in front, the pair in back
Both pair could spy a lie, intact.  And the pacts we made with devilment

Her ears could hear a baby's cry, before the baby made a sound
Her ears could hear a squabble brew, before the fight had taken ground
Her ears could hear a friend in need, a heart in pain, the sound of rain,
before a cloud would dare appear

She heard the whimper in the night, of silent weeping, swallowed tears,
or discomfort from a fevered brow....  She heard it all, without a doubt

She could hear our schemes.....the good.......the bad.......the in-between
It came endowed, so naturally, a passage rite of motherhood

I marveled at this miracle, with awe and envy in my mind...
Not knowing then, what I know now.   It was born in me, as well, somehow...

This something so designed by God, that I too, hear the silent things...
          The cookie jar, in muted mode,  ...The million codes, of teenaged love
          And through the years my ears are tuned, to hear the varied undertones

One night it was,..., my daughter, grown, would call me on the telephone

One word, it was,       that's all it was .........  her voice was odd......the silence long..

"Mom" is all she said to me

 ....I knew,   .... I knew,   ....... I knew the sound,....of something terribly wrong.





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5/4/15
For Contest Sponsored By Craig Cornish:"A Mother's Ears"

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode | |

Fun-Frosted Memories

Dee’s father bought a fancy, family sled 
to her amusement and joy
He shocked the town pulling this sled around
With his good, shiny Model T Ford

Memories run through Dee’s mind
At the family hardware store,
she would climb the latter up to the loft
and sit inside the sled stored there,
reflecting on cool-warmed times-
a father’s smile…a heart sublime

-For my Grandma Dee
May 30, 2014

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014