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Mother Daughter Relationship Poems | Mother Daughter Poems About Relationship

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Details | Free verse | |

A mother's treasures

A solitary piece the diamond
precious rare gem most treasured
by those lucky enough to hold
Once in possession it is rarely out of grasp
Like the gemstone the mother 
requires very specific conditions
in holding fast her (family/) childrens love
Treasured forever in her heart
she will go out of her way
to preen and protect them
holding them dear to her
deep within her maternal safe – the heart
closely guarded by the mind
Her infatuation of all treasures to her 
are totally understandable
especially when you think to the complexity
of structure and process taken in creation
Just as from the ‘unbreakable’ in ancient greek
this alletrope of carbon
with strength of bonding between atoms
is representative of that strong love
between mum and child
The maternal being could be compared
to the superlative physical qualities of the stone
Even the characteristic luster
of this gem so prevaient from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths, roles and qualities
of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high pressured job 
versus the high pressured temperature
within the Earths mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love encaptures the magical luster
of those she’s birthed and nothing
stands inbetween this richest of cargo’s

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013

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 | Prose Poetry | |

Your My Dear Friend

We have been together
treasured joy now for many years
we trust each other with our
emotions, with affection, tears,

Any day when you are sick or hurting
I feel your pain - significant other,
when eighter-one needs attention
we help one another...

These mutual friendly feelings
for assistance, approval, support
form our tight bonds,
usually never broken

Sharing visions, time together
we respect each other,
regardless of shortcomings
I know you, "I love you anyway"

Copyright © Perry Campanella | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

My Daughter

Sometimes she is SWEET n sometimes STRAIGHT.
always PUNCTUAL so NEVER COMES LATE.
sometimes BOASTFUL n sometimes BORING.
her CUTE TALKS make her my BESTEST MATE.
she is SIMPLE, SOBER n KIND.
whatever i say she DOESN'T MIND.
dishonesty is something she HATE.
her NAUGHTINESS makes her MY BESTEST MATE.
she is SILLY but LOYAL n NICE.
CARELESS sometimes, sometimes CARING. 
may god bless her with BESTEST FATE.
her TACTFULNESS makes her MY BESTEST MATE.
To Hitaishi
From Mumma

Copyright © Archana Garg | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

A BLESSED CHILD

When you miss a child,
Of your very own,
That is your flesh and blood,
You begin to wonder,
Where did you go wrong,
In your own life,
Instead of looking,
At the beautiful life,
You created,
This you must remember,
So many of the difficult times,
Cause of the times you did share together,
For your children will remember more,
Than you really want to give them credit for,
And they will always remember you,
As their loving parent,
For loving them so much,
More than you will ever know,
And you will never forget them,
Just as you hope,
You will never be forgotten,
From their lives,
Forever more,
As well.

Copyright © John Hembree | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

Healing Words

My mother, my grandmother before has always held a place in my heart.
My father, and my grandfather before has the same part.
I was young and very active with unwillingness to listen fully to what they had to say.
I had a problem, never could be solved without my parents and grandparents till today.
With patience they all come to my aid when I fall on my face.
With little dishonor I listen to them and what they had to say, I embrace.
Over the years I go to them with no doubt a feeling of no dismay.
Over the years I go to them and they help me solve problems that to me is O.K.
Now I am getting a bit more aware of what had happen to me when I was growing.
Now I remember how the ride was in my beginning: it was a trial of not knowing.
With the guided words of my parents and grandparents I survive through them all.
With it some being a problem that I remember I recall.
My mother and my grandmother always said to be patient and it will be easy to solve.
My father and my grandfather always knew that I would grow and evolve.
I could wonder everyday what if my parents and grandparents was not in my life.
I could just think that would be fatal like a stab with a knife.
With knowledge that they had past on to me of what they had experience.
With their proof of teachings they had past on to me is their self existence.
Over the years I grew with life so full of happiness that was because of my families love.
Over the years it showed me the path that led me to all the above.
Now cherish those words that help me through my troubles in my new family.
Now I listen to my parents healing words of wisdom and except them gladly.

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

In My Community

Our Ancestors fought to the death,
Just so we can live a brighter day,
So before you light up that blunt of meth,
Think about what you’re giving away,
It was a glad day in history when Obama rose to victory,
The first black president was all we knew,
Dark skin is in!
Haven’t you heard?
That even in our community, 
You can get burned,
It’s a sad day when people would rather stay home and “Crank That Amber Cole”,
Than get up and run to a poll,
In our community,
Rockin’ Luis V is better than having a college degree,
And teen pregnancy is not only a trend,
But the single motherhood that follows should end,
Young girls learn of a wonderful prince to take them away,
Nothing should change thought their mothers prince didn’t stay,
And as the tears fade away,
She grows stronger every day,
In our community,
Fighting is no longer a word,
You argue with someone and shots are heard,
Girls showing places the sun don’t show,
So how do they expect the community to grow?
Where love is a figment of imagination,
Making a young child question her creation,
Young mothers would rather buy the iPhone 5,
Then satisfy her baby’s cries,
While her new man’s eye,
Wander up another girl’s thighs,
In our community,
Where #team dark skin vs #team light skin,
Makes others not love the skin they’re in,
Love, lust, hate, and trust,
Giving a rose on Valentine’s Day is no longer a must, 
Where bad is good and good is bad,
Who would think to see their grandmother sad?
Her hurt and pain,
Shows how our community has lost everything her parents fought to gain.

Copyright © Nya Johnson | Year Posted 2013

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 | Prose Poetry | |

Unconditional Love

In the warmth of a massive cozy bed, I lie
Enjoying the freshness of a washed sheet
Lost in a make believe world
Lovely enough, I can’t wake

But while in the deep of my fantasies 
I am suddenly awakened by my little one’s silent echo!!!

Her turns and sucks, 
Her little hand-full tummy, rumbling
Yet again, wet diaper.

Oh no!!! Why now? 
Sleep never felt so lovely
But I just can’t ignore this growl
Am I not her supper-mom? 

Sleep-walking; I grab some warm milk and fresh diaper
For who came from me, same flesh and blood!!!

Copyright © chocho diva | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

As A Parent I Want My Kids to Serve God


As A Parent, I Want My Kids to Serve God! As a parent, I’m trying the best that I can…. Though there are things that I don’t understand! I remember my parents teaching me right and wrong. And taught that God’s laws certainly belong! I’ve tried to share these values with my kids too… The choices they’ve made, and the things they do! When situations in life, seem to have changed… I know that my heavenly father remains the same! I think about what in life, to my kids, I have given… And pray they’ll serve God all the days they’re livin’! Even though I’ve failed and stumbled along the way… I hope I’ve taught my kids how important it is to pray! This family that God gave to me, has grown over a period of time. I’m thankful for the opportunity to call them “mine.” I pray they’ll seek God’s guidance! Wherever they go! May the word of God strengthen and nourish their soul! And as my kids get older, and they move out on their own… May they seek God’s love and protection over their home! I pray that my children will give God their very best! May they serve him daily! And let him take care of the rest! I’m trying my best, as a parent, to trust Jesus and believe! His goodness, in our lives, is what we need to achieve! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Acrostic | |

To My PS Mama, Donna Jones

D evoted to me from the start
O utstanding in care she imparts
N oble in fulfilling my needs
N oteworthy in words and in deeds
A ffectionate mother to me...

My Donna’s as sweet as can be!!!!

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Donna isn’t old enough to be my Mama, but she has the most beautiful heart of a mother and has taken me under her wing and adopted me as her daughter. I can’t tell you what a precious gift that is, especially since I lost my Mama 14 years ago….and I’m a BIG BABY at heart and need nurture and care. Thanks, Donna….for being in my life. I love you dearly!

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? | |

mama

mama how do i tell you its bad again
how the voices are telling me its okay to hurt
they want me to fall
to fall from the top of buildings 
and not get up
but don't worry mama
i plan to shut them up

mama how do i explain how the pain has returned
all you wanted was me to be better
i tried and tried and tried and tried
but in the end, the crazy won
they drive me crazy to no end
i want to make it stop 
but don't worry mama
i have a plan

mama i cant tell you how it feels
to be sunken to the depths of earth
angels are soaring above me
but their happy gazes hurt
i need this incessant chatter to go
to hurt me, to hate me 
it all feels so real
but don't worry mama
it wont soon

mama i can see the look in your eyes
it hurts me too that this is goodbye 
cant you see this is the only way 
for the voices to vanish but my body stay
goodbye and farewell 
ill miss you so much
but don't cry mama
ill be better now

Copyright © Ursula Black | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Stop!

Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Listen!

Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Think!

Think of how you treat,

grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Act!

Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,

grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,

men,

all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Mother

fall in love,
often and deeply

but don't even bother
to adore anyone other
than your mother.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

HEALING WOUNDS

Mothers against daughters, these things should not be,
Especially in the Kingdom of God, and in the name of Christianity.
From the moment the girl was conceived to the minute she was born;
That mother and daughter should grow closer, the bond should never be torn.

In building relationships, there is stress, conflicts and strife,
We use words and body language that cuts like a knife.
The things we use ladies, to severe our relationships;
Does not come from the kitchen or shed, but straight from our lips.

Sometimes we run our mouths a lot, sometimes we talk to much,
The relationship that should develop, a sharp blade has cut.
And when we tell the story, we only tell one side;
We leave out things unsaid, undone, in essence we have lied.

We should use honest, gracious words; words seasoned with salt,
Not words that are detrimental and looking for a fault.
Ladies, listen closely, open up and be frank,
Before you open your mouth, take time to stop and think.

Use healing words that mend relationships together;
Not sharp and cutting words; the relationship to severe.
Remember: "No Pain, No Gain" I'll quote words from this song;
'Cause I don't want to waste my time telling you nothing wrong.

     Yet like the old lady sitting under the tree, 
      I have called you over to say to thee:
      "If you learn this secret, how to forgive;
       A longer and a better life you will live."

It holds a powerful truth, if we could use it every day.
And be careful little mouth and tongue the words you choose to say.
Arise and shine ladies, Jesus is coming soon,
We need to mend relationships, we need to heal the wounds.



God spoke and I wrote in July 2001  All rights reserved.

Copyright © Daisy Marie Yant | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? | |

They Left so Abruptly

They Left so Abruptly

(for the countless South Africans, of all colours, who dedicated their lives for freedom and democracy)

the valiant ones
countless
many known
many more nameless

the truest sons and singers
husbands and poets
lovers and wives
daughters and farmers
workers and sisters
brothers and friends

they left so abruptly
with quiet pride
steely courage
gentle dignity

they left so abruptly
leaving us our tomorrows
brighter
hopeful
filled with promise

they left so abruptly
so that we may breathe
the breath of liberty
the air of freedom
the warmth of justice

they left so abruptly
leaving with us their parting gift

freedom
inkululeko
swatantrata
liberte
azadi
vhudilangi
libertad

they left so abruptly
yet we remember them all
today
in the days that slipped away
and in the many more that we await

they left so abruptly
yet they remain
hewed into our memories
etched in our consciences
engraved in our hearts
they left so abruptly
and yet they endure
with us
within us
now and forever more

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

papa wasn't rich but he loved her so

  E. L. E. K. T. R. A. 



the spring had come and gone
  the summer song was sung
   autumn dragged its feet 
  and winter brought defeat 
 her momma was a snitch indescribable 
 papa wasn't rich but he loved her so 

 'never a pretty girl 
  not even in her prime 
     hatred borne of envy 
   corrupted heart and mind
 oppressed by the wealthy and the beautiful
 there never was a grafter with less to show
       here's a face that you know 
      bouncing off the window pane
     you don't have to be told that 
    never will you ever be the same 

  when learning to decieve
 she'd always done her best
      to come across as clever 
    detached n' unimpressed 
 her momma was a snitch, irresponsible
 papa wasn't rich and he had to go 
         hear the clatter of feet 
        running through the dirty rain
      she's tearing up the street, the 
    one constant in her life is pain

      tell it like it is 'til the story is told 
papa wasn't rich but he loved her so 


_____________________________________



Newest song
I haven't changed it much for this forum. 

I have now! 2nd draft. Ok 3Rd n hopefully final draft. 

Comments most welcome. Thanks, Rightly.

Copyright © Rightly Jennings | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The Aftermath

You’re the only definite
that I’m unsure about.
I have mixed feelings
and you’re all in them,
the anger flows throughout.
So many traits
I perfected
being connected,
to you
for so long.
The suppression,
misguided anger,
the depression 
that could have killed me.
A damaging relationship,
but my love for you
won’t let me leave.
I’ll die slowly,
let this wound me,
you always aggrieve.
You say some things
I see red,
the countless times
we fought.
All the times
I stopped myself
from carrying out
those thoughts.
I’ll hurt myself
before I touch you,
and no one else
had better try.
Because despite
my feelings,
I always love you,
you’re the one
that gave me life.
I bite back
the hatred,
can’t always stop
the coldness,
but I don't really try.
Then you 
push my buttons,
we go back at it,
only pause to reload.
I try not 
to open myself,
can’t bear the depths
of my wrongs.
Can’t stand this thing
we’ve become.
How many times
do we have to cut,
to appreciate blood?
How many years
have to be muddled,
til we see the clearing?
You never take me
for my word,
but I love you
and I mean it.
Even when I left,
I still loved you.
No matter.
And if you leave me,
I’d never be alright,
because I love you,
despite,

...despite.

And when I hate you,
I love you.
No matter.

So if you
ever read this,
just know
that I cried.
And that I wanted
to reach out,
apologize.
But our past 
stopped me,
can’t swallow
this pride.

Copyright © Joy Nicole | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Fugitive From The Special School

A fugitive from society, 
A fugitive from the makers of the nook, 
A prisoner in my special school, 
A convict to the female OT department, look. 

Not needing occupational therapy from a woman, 
From a girly woman who had no depth, 
Who used Yuhu to stick a philosophical view of life onto her,
Who used bobbles, hairspray and lipstick maroon;
Who represented inequality in healthcare, 
Where there’s so many more women than men, 
Who validated your parents fully, 
Before they cheered up your ben, 
They didn’t meet me, but did play, 
Without going out of their way. 

But it was all my fault abstractly, 
Although i know it was not because i was only two and three quarters, 
When i replied to the doctor that i was ok when i was not, 
When i answered to him about what was within, about what I’d got, 
Instead if replying to him straight.

The other doctor, the school doctor has done fine with me though, 
And i never ran away from him, 
So he helped me with my problem at university, 
When we were both studying to win; 
I could talk to him at anytime at school, 
Supposedly, because the other kids shunned me for talking to him too much, 
Since they thought that my slow physical development was funny, 
Not worth inquiry or pout, 
When i found it an injury stout. 

But I learnt that society wasn’t the initiator of school medical structures, 
That they were different, that my culture was not delinquent, 
And that i fitted in neatly and with eloquence, 
To gain my independence and not sin;
By intelligent society i was accepted,  
And could overcome and win. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

a wife and mother's despair

Elegant neck, 
long neck.
If it is cut, 
the blood feels warm, 
running in the hands,

Dizzy head, 
all becomes black.
She is the light of my life.
An immense sadness fills my chest.
Sadness, because I won't see her anymore.
Sadness, because I would move away from her,
because I would no longer exist,
and I could not... 
listen her laugh again, 
smell her hair again,
feel her hugs again,
I could not listen again "mom, I love you".

The immense sadness would last only seconds,
then it would no longer exist.
No more pain,
no more happy memories, 
no more sad memories.

I don't want to lose her!
The blood feels warm in the hands,
but it is just in my mind.
My body stays here,
alive,
locked,
suffering. 

There is no freedom,
no dignity.
My dreams are hostages of the selfish tyrant.
My life is in his hands.

I want to stick my head out of the water,
get some air, 
I want to be able to breath.
It suffocates me.
I want to have hope again. 
I need it.
I need to have strength again.

Copyright © Clementine Hope | Year Posted 2016