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Mother Holiday Poems | Mother Poems About Holiday

These Mother Holiday poems are examples of Mother poems about Holiday. These are the best examples of Mother Holiday poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative | |

October's Gift

It is October again, but I have another in mind
One long ago, and it brings tender memories
It wasn't the usual, of Halloween kind
Of parties and goblins, of which there were many

It was a year of some changes, our family had moved
I was ten years old...struggling and shy
A small little town, I'd been replanted and torn 
It was late in October...now uprooted and more...
A different school....a country lane....no close neighbors next door

On Halloween night, it rained and it poured
The end of the world...I was unhappy and bored
Leaving what had been home, familiar and sure
Where our old street had been filled
With Halloween thrills
Here in the country, ...no one came to the door

I was dressed to go out...but storms plagued the night
My mom understood....she saw my sad plight

She went up to her room, made up her face
She combed up her hair, until it stood on it's roots
Covered her face with black fireplace soot
She threw on her robe, and pulled on dad's boots
Crept out the back door, and to the front porch

When the doorbell rang....I jumped in delight!
Trick-or-treaters had come to our house this dark night!!
When I opened the door, at first I didn't see
It was mom, ...trying to hard, bring me some glee!
She grabbed me and laughed and pulled me to come
Out into the rainstorm....up the road we would run
We ran in the downpour, getting soaked to our skin
Laughing and yelling....such fun it had been!

Later that night, we warmed by the fire
She let me stay up....no one was tired
So cozy and warm...no longer so cold
With popcorn, and candy...and the ghost stories told
That one Halloween, on that night of the storm
Was the best Halloween....and reminds me of home.....
I'll never forget  when each Halloween comes
The gift of the fun....   all thanks to my mom.....


Details | Narrative | |

Christmas Delivery

As December winds swirled the snow in drifts outside
   Lisa covered Mama, held her hand as she cried
“It’s my last Christmas, I know it in my heart, dear
   Send my prayers to God; deliver them with my tears”

“Hush, Mama, you can’t die; Tommy needs you so
   And his tour of duty still has six months to go”
Mama fell asleep, Lisa bowed her head in prayer
   Adding her own tears, she asked that Tommy be there

“Please let my brother see Mama just one more time
   When her eyes open, may it be her son she finds”
Tears fell on the floor as Lisa kept vigil
   Beside her cancer-stricken mother so fragile

Awakening to see Tommy standing nearby
   In uniform he appeared; Lisa exhaled a sigh
“God sent you home, I knew He would, our pleas were heard”
   Tommy stroked his sister’s hair, saying not one word

‘Twas then Lisa saw Mama standing behind him
   Aglow in heaven’s light were her mother and twin
“How blessed we’ll be – together on this Christmas Day!”
   Lisa exclaimed, just before they faded away

Confused, she saw her ashen mom so still in bed
   ‘Neath the door a telegram, Tommy too was dead
And though there were tears in Lisa’s blue eyes so bright
   Her loved ones would spend Christmas together in God’s sight

A smile came as candles flaming in the window grew
Lisa realized one Christmas she’d be with them too



*Rhyming narrative for Paula Swanson’s “Tear” contest


Details | Limerick | |

Momerick

There once was a lady named "Mom"
Who had a hard time keeping calm.
But she knows how to sew
And garden and mow
And she's a farmer on facebook.com

She's a grandma to Mel and Harmony
She's a young wife for "Gramps" who's 70! 
She calms the waters
Of her four lovely daughters
And best of all she puts up with me.


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Family Grief Family Happiness

  
   Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
        
    My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
        My Mother caring about all five in different ways
      Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays 
     My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
          
      Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John. 
       music  a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !

     Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
          The music  takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "    
      My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
                 My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
        feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food               
         
       the yelling , slamming of doors ,  tempers Flare , passion 
         Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
        
        After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
         Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?

       Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee  
                 No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
          the  Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .  
        Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
             Excited in Chicago !  seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
        Cubs ,  museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
        
       Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
             Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `  
        Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones , 
          scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
        
           ~ That is the Family I Love ,
                     that is the Family I choose to miss ~    
                       
              


Details | Burlesque | |

Redneck FATHER'S DAY------

***NOTE~TO BE READ WITH A RIDICULOUS "SILKY SOUTHERN DRAWL" (have fun:)***



"Storm over yet...?"

"Well hay'ell ye'ah! 
 woo-hoo!
 sum'body git me a da'gumm cole beer.
 whadda'bou  that boy th'er?
 sum'body git him'a cole beer too!"

"Diddy! that boy ain't nothin' but 8 years old!"

"Wha'choo sayin? 
 wha'th'a?
 na'I don't give a jolly'durn, if he ain't nuttin but 8 year'owed!
 shoot! 
 'dat boy dun' sat him thr'ew a big ol', storm! 
 torna'durr warnin' too!
 he gonna have him'a cole burr;  
 on me!"
 my treat!
 mama, git him'a cole burr! 
 ro'tt now; 
 ya'here?
 besides...
 ta'days father's day!" 



© 2011  ~JSLambert Esquire

   










Details | Rhyme | |

A Painful Thanksgiving Night

A Painful Thanksgiving Night… As I sit here this Thanksgiving night I can do nothing else but write. My family’s in the other room So, why do I feel all this gloom? When we arrived late last night I thought for sure I would be alright. Even though it took everything in me To take that 3 hour drive you see. Each and every time I come All I want to do is run. Run away and never turn back A family bond I sure do lack. A mother’s love is what I crave But a hug and money is all she gave. My sisters and I we try and try To understand mother as the years go by. But nothing about her ways makes sense She’s cold and hard and always on the defense. Through the years she’s done much wrong But the love of my mother I still do long. Though the bad memories of her will never erase I prayed through my kids they might be replaced. Maybe they would chase away her pain And my love for her would not be in vain. When they’re around her it’s clear to see There’s nothing left, no mystery. Who she is; is what she’ll be All I see is a repeat of history. A history filled with hurt and pain To protect my children I must break the chain. This chain has bound me in so many ways It almost claimed my life - on several days. Lay


Details | Villanelle | |

An Angel of Christmas Past

The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget It was the day we celebrated yes I do remember The family came together for you with no regret Recalling a child, spying around, found a train set I would start to feel the excitement in November The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget Someone hurries to buy a last gift in a Corvette Another sad to celebrate, a gift they can’t render The family came together for you with no regret The rest of the holiday, I’ll change my mindset Going to show some real spirit, not be a pretender The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget If there is anyone, it’s to you that I am in debt Lil sweet lady, no you were powerful yet slender The family came together for you with no regret So far from that magical time I’m a dark silhouette But my cold hard heart starts to melt in December The eve of Christmas a day I won’t soon forget You taught me about Holiday spirit, with no regret
Written by me Wayland Bunch II on 12/10/2013 for Happy Holidays contest in memory of my grandmother. I changed the last line, felt forced to change it, but will still categorize this poem as a Villanelle. I could have easily repeated the closing line again, or could have called it free verse, but neither would have done justice to the message or the form, because I used the power of the repetition, provided by the form, throughout.


Details | Senryu | |

Happy Mothers Day

Here's a special wish to all you mothers out there: Happy Mothers Day!


Details | Couplet | |

You Inspire Me

You Inspire Me

What inspires me?

A song lyric-------a brave, determined person (Man or Woman)

A gifted child

An Innovator, innovators are individuals that are firsts to do something.

That inspires me and by the way…

O mother you inspire me (most of all)!


Details | Rhyme | |

'Twas The Week After Christmas

'Twas the week after Chrstmas and all through the house
The children were sleeping, too tired to arouse,
When all of a sudden there appeared in the room,
Mama in her nightcap, carrying a broom.

The stockings once hanging on mantle in row,
Were picked off the floor, into storage they go.
All the glitter of Christmas, now tarnished and torn,
Must be removed from the room ere the New Year is born.

She tackled the tree, taking some care,
To remove every light, the tree was soon bare.
She packed everything, put it safely away
On a shelf in the basement 'til next Christmas Day.

The fine Christmas spirit she'd had, was now flagging.,
She must clean up the mess to keep it from sagging.
She dragged out the tree and then heaved a big sigh,
Sat down with her coffee and had a good cry.



This was modeled after Clement Clark Moore's,  'Twas TheNight Before Christmas'


Details | Rhyme | |

Mum's Christmas Dinner

She stays awake for hours, cutting Xs in the sprouts,
Then peels all the tatties, a ton or thereabouts,
Slicing and dicing parsnips is next up in the plan,
Chops up carrots and a swede, and put them in a pan,
Mixes up her sage and onion and stuffs it in the bird,
Along with some pork sausage meat that’s been pre-prepared,
She takes apart the oven, to fit the turkey in,
Hangs it up with bits of string, there’s no room in the tin,
Wraps sausages in bacon, in case they catch a chill,
But makes sure they‘re all cooked thoroughly, so the family won’t get ill,
Cooks the bird for hours, while the table’s being laid,
With all the finest crockery (and some of lower grade),
Makes space around the table, brings in extra chairs,
Adorns the place with candles and other Christmas wares,
Lays out a Christmas cracker in everybody’s place,
Complete with rather tacky joke, no doubt of a straight face,
And brings out all the condiments, the pickles and the sauce,
The salt and pepper, the mustard and radish known as “horse”,
Next she makes the starter, the simplest course by far,
A cocktail made up of prawns and a sauce out of a jar.
The family then all piles in, and argues over seats,
The children are already full of chocolates and treats,
Grandmother is mumbling, “Kids should be seen not heard”,
Meanwhile back in the kitchen Mum’s wrestling with the bird,
She tries to carve up slices, but ends up with turkey chunks,
While Dad and Gramps have become a pair of Christmas drunks,
They start an argument about which wine goes with the meat,
And restless children run around, not staying in their seat,
Mother tries to keep her calm and bravely soldiers on,
But the roasties are all blackened and the sprouts are over done,
Mum enters the dining room looking very puffed,
She throws the turkey down and shouts ,“There you go! Get stuffed!”


18th November 2012


Details | Narrative | |

LISA'S IVORY MUSIC BOX

Many Christmas stories are told every year,
and many songs are sung with pure cheer;
do I have a good story, at least one, I can tell,
or a simple song I can hum and spread good will?


When Lisa's grandmother passed away unexpectedly...
by her dying bed she kept an ivory music box,
and to her lovely granddaughter she gave it
to saying," Take care of it, and smile when you think of me!"


The day after granny died, she went down the dark cellar
to hide the ivory music box in an old dresser's drawer,
and once in a while she would open it and play it and listen to it sadly;
the pretty angel swirled...and Silent Night played as Lisa touched it tenderly.


It was almost Christmas Day and the pine tree wasn't decorated yet,
she rushed outside carrying a red basket with ornaments in it;
how could she had forgotten to adorn it with bulbs and garlands?
" Oh gosh, I feel like the Grinch!"  she displeasingly uttered to herself. 


There was no snow predicted for that evening and the illuminated town
was lacking Nature's magical snowflakes to make it festive and vibrant;
five minutes to midnight the choir from the nearest church gathered outside,
and waited for a miracle...silence...tranquility...every heart felt so alone.


But Lisa with an indomitable spirit ordered them to sing, 
and they began singing looking up the clearest, starriest sky;
everyone seemed sad and some of them wanted to cry,
but before sadness set in...snowflakes began falling.


Lisa knew that it was the miracle she had been waiting for,
but something was missing from the snowy scenery...
she remembered her ivory music box she had put away,
and running, with awe in her bright eyes, she opened the cellar's door...


Clutched in her caring, careful hands, she carried the ivory music box,
laid it gently underneath the twinkling, scented Christmas Tree;
Lisa kissed it tenderly...until the golden angel started to swirl at midnight,
as that divine music filled the nippy air...making all cheeks so peachy.        


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Monoku | |

A Speck of Flame







eternal love arrived… speck of flame spreading wild fire engulfing all time ~*~
* * * Note: #3 in series of 24 Monokus reflecting the holy season of Christmas! * * * * * *


Details | Light Poetry | |

The First Christmas Present

A spider spun a silver web in a mound of golden straw, Then he hid himself inside the stack, away from the wind so raw. He yelled down to the sheep below Who were trying to huddle close, “It’s times like this that I wish there was a fire for a mutton roast. For winter had come upon the land and his barn was deathly cold, He wasn’t sure if he’d survive the night if the truth of it were told. He tried to dream a dream of hope to get him through the night, But he couldn’t bring himself to sleep because of a blinding light. A star was shinning down on them as if the sun in mid-day glory, The little spider had yet to learn of the coming Christmas story. Below was a ewe with her lamb both snuggled up together, Trying their best to keep warm in the cold of the winter weather. “I’d never trade places with you anyway,” the mother sheep bleated out, “Why are you so happy in your hate to lend voice to pain and doubt?” The light from heaven kept them awake and staring in wide wonder, When two weary travelers entered in and the straw became their plunder. The little spider became dislodged as a nest of straw was piled, And he could see that one of the travelers was very great with child. The three companions watched it all; they’d never seen a human being born, They were all surprised when at his birth There came the peal of an angelic horn. A herald’s call went out to all the land announcing the newborn king, And the spider and the ewe shared a laugh to think of such a thing. Because this baby was so very small and his parents were so poor, Yet there was something about this newborn child that neither could ignore. The spider looked down on the ewe and said in a voice too bold, “This baby needs to be swaddled now to keep him from the cold. Good ewe I can spin for him a cover if you’ll allow me to use your fleece.” So together they worked to swaddle the child on this night of Holy peace. The mother smiled at them all as she took the blanket for her boy, Then laid him in a manger poor and they were overcome with joy. The meaning of this wondrous event was what made them all feel glad, For they had brought the first gift to the Lord by sharing what they had. And the warmth, which they had provided the child, also kept the three of them warm, May the loving joy that they discovered keep you this Christmas morn. Merry Christmas!


Details | Haiku | |

Last Minute Halloween Costume

Last Minute Halloween Costume
Toilet paper wraps;
Costs less to dress as mummy,
Mom thinks it’s funny!


Details | Couplet | |

A Perfect Day

I sink into the steaming bath and soak my cares away,
A glass of wine to cure the pain the damp brought on today;

No screaming son to demand my time, today is just for me,
A book is all I need to be as content as I can be;

I call the local pizza place as the water cools and bubbles fade,
I order up a large for me and hope it’s not delayed;

Soon the delivery man is on his way with a heavenly pizza pie;
And I intend to enjoy every slice, just me, myself and I;

The rain is coming down in torrents as I snuggle up on the couch;
I slowly start feeling more like me, instead of Oscar the Grouch;

I turn on my favorite movie, the one I’ve seen a thousand times;
I enjoy every second as I relax, feeling sublime;

My family will be home soon and their needs I’ll have to tend;
The sun sinks lower in the sky, as my perfect day draws to an end.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Power of One Hour

For just one hour, we live as our ancestors did
     Reading, writing, sharing the Earth by candlelight
From our obligations to Mother Nature we hid
     Our eyes have become blinded, one with the night

Nature’s bounty has been squandered for too long
    We strip forests, mines, and drill for oil in pristine sea
Should we have expected no punishment for this wrong?
     Wouldn’t you prefer a world where creatures all run free?

These cages, prisons, contain endangered species
     At 8:30 tonight though, Mother Nature is taking charge
Locked doors will open, even the one your heart sees
     Is one hour without light enough time to recharge?



Written March 29, 2012 for Nikko’s “Beyond Earth Hour” challenge
"If you can, please turn off your lights for an hour 
on Earth Hour 2012 ---March 31 ----8:30pm. Thanks :)" 


Tip:  Wait until hot summers or cold winter to turn on the heat and air.  I cut my utility bill in half by “dressing” for the temperatures, rather than use heat or air conditioning.  In the summer I turn off the hot water – cool water feels much better on a hot day.


Details | Free verse | |

marking time....to my friends on poetry soup.- the Lord helped me fight death and won.

i don't want to be just marking

time.  i died on november 20,

2008, during surgery.  i was

on a vent when i awakened 

december 2, 2008....my sisters'

birthday. what made me llive

i'll never know.  i know there

are things to do on this side

of death.



i have no time for marking time.

i have a stupid bag hanging from

my side now.  i am supposed to

"get comfortable with it".  well

that was a laugh.

that was a laugh until i thought

of the people that had these

things with no hope of ever

getting away from them.



i am so lucky.  14 days i laid

on a vent, then 22 more.

i came home 3 days, 



then 


i had
great pain in my chest...
.
well this is great i said,

a pulmonary emboli, 15 more

days, three days home.



then back to e.r. blood pressure

too high.  this bought me 

4 more days in e.r.



i am home now and finally 

have spent 19 days home.

i feel every pain and i feel

every time that i feel good



yes, i am never marking

time again.....there is

something about fighting

for your life and your sanity

that straightens things out.



i don't recommend it but

i wish i could let your hearts

know what i know.

janetta


Details | Light Poetry | |

A Bit of Irish

I have a bit of Irish in me
From Grandma Mary Halloway.
My German part is quite subdued
On this my grandma's holiday.

The Scotch and English part of Mom
Combined with Irish from Grandma
Make up the whole of half of me.
The rest is German from my pa.

A boiled potato and green beans
Was part of Grandma's daily fare,
But adding cabbage and corned beef
Made up a feast beyond compare.

On St Patrick's of every year,
I think about my family tree.
And wear the green to show my pride
In the quarter Irish part of me.


Details | Haiku | |

Triple Haiku-SNOW AND WONDERMENT

JACK'S SNOWMAN

It took three whole days
for Jack to build a snowman;
he's as tall and strong


THRILLED BY SNOW

They are thrilled and scream..
playing in the deep, fresh snow;
they cannot their mom 


PONDERING MYSTERY

Heart, take a quick look: 
isn't winter's glittering snow 
so mysterious?



Details | Narrative | |

Thanksgiving Is Just That

It's funny how we associate things.  They become one with each other.  Who can imagine an Easter without the bunny, or losing a tooth and not being paid a visit by the tooth fairy.  And Christmas would be unthinkable without Santa.  So that is why, I guess, that I still remember one particular Thanksgiving from my youth.

Back then, turkeys at the market were fresh, not frozen and encased in plastic as they are today.  They also represented an extra expense on an already tight food budget.  So my mother made arrangements with the market manager to set up a layaway of sorts, paying some each week, and they promised to hold one for her.

I remember when, on the afternoon before Thanksgiving day, she sent me over to the grocer to pick up the turkey.  I jumped on my bike and rode downtown to Converse Market.  Walking up to the door, I found it locked.  Shading my eyes, I pressed my nose against the window and saw that all the lights were off.  Turns out they had closed early that day to give their employees a little more time to spend with their families.

When I returned home and told my mother what had happened, the look on her face was one of devastation.  What would Thanksgiving be without a turkey?  I thought my dad would be mad, but instead he just said “we've got food in the house don't we”?  And we did.

So, although the letdown of a Thanksgiving without the traditional bird could have been a disaster,  on that particular day, we chose instead to give thanks for what we had, and, as a family, dived into our pork chops with all the fixings.


11/19/2011


Details | Free verse | |

A delicious day

Sifting warm sand 
through my fingers
lustrous fine grains 
glitter my palm.
Soothed
by the soft powdery touch,
I sit for a while 
under the rocks
My bare feet 
swirl patterns in the sand
as I idly watch
a beach life unfold

Bustling mother’s set up home 
on plaid blankets
colourful beach bags 
thick with togs and towels
Buckets, spades
strewn all around
a picnic stored carefully
under a shady umbrella,
they gather the children
skip giddy with glee
slapping sunscreen 
on lithe limbs
with index finger
warnings
of do's and don'ts.

My gaze drifts to 
little pink sisters,
their chubby faces 
alive with imagination
as nimble bodies 
straddle the sand,
all wrapped up 
in mounds of castles
studding their dreams 
with pearly shells 
and whispering tales
of pretty princesses.

At the water’s edge
long legs prancing
tip toeing warmth
into the chilly sea
up to their waists in
crested waves
dipping and diving,
an ocean of laughter
as young lads play
splashing and yelling
a ball in the air
they plunge.

Picking up my sandals,
I walk up the beach
under the bridge
past crimson valerian 
It’s balmy perfume 
scenting a delicious day


Details | Light Poetry | |

Always I Miss You

When I'm home sick, sulking half the day because your not here,
 And getting sadder if I say madder because your not there,
 I remind myself in an unusual way theres worse fared,
 If you don't mind being compared,
 
Repeating the many ways you cared,
 The experiences fondly replayed in many ways,
 Thoughts and memories that make me gay,
 Every recipe, every taste,
 Looking back it all seems in an awkward haste,
 
Now it is what I use to fill my plate,
 It's what I use so I won't be late,
 Staying here learning to appreciate,
 All the miles, trucks caring freight..
 
For your Christmas gifts the children just can't wait,
 But if you visit my mind would quake.


Details | Rhyme | |

Can I also Have

?Dear Santa; for my wish list I would really love a bike- If it's not too much trouble Can I also have a kite?' 'I would like a new computer With games and an Ipod phone. I would also like a train set With tracks to fill my home.' 'But Mummy and Daddy are very poor Not much money they said- So if you cannot manage the above Can I have peace on Earth instead?'


Details | Rhyme | |

Mothers

Listen up’ here’s the scoop, and honorable day is coming.
It’s a day to celebrate mothers celebrate special woman.
Without mothers this world would be miserable and would be a real shame.
With them on the scene there is no nonsense raising children it’s not a game.

All of “us” who were blessed with a mother.
Know she is the only one and she is special above sisters and brothers.
She has always been there for her children and their problems.
Blessed by God, her job is to teach, heal, pamper as she takes care of her private kingdom.

Special in every way it’s the hardest job in her life and the best job she could have.
Staying home to provide the best schooling in life, teaching them morals and how to behave.
All of “us” who have had loving mothers should be truly thankful.
You know you have only one, and we know were blessed and are truly thankful.

The standing rock of the family she is the one that binds the household together,
She has undeniable love for her children, devotion that lasts forever.
Putting her career on hold putting it aside to be with her children to raise.
She is deserving of all allocates we can give them, thanking her on this day with love and praise.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mary's Tribulation

Mary’s Tribulation

She wept from the depths of her bowels
For the child she brought into fruition.
Not knowing in her love,
She would witness the greatest of all sacrifices.
Tortured nerves washed with vinegar.
Nails driven through meridians to increase the pain.
PAIN, oh so great, oh so long,
That a Mother would die herself...
Beneath the cross

She wept and her heart broke in angst,
His purpose to teach mankind.
Her witness to His Love.
So great, the task, His life
His walk, so brief on earth.
Yet thousands of years, the story retold
Eternal salvation unfolds.
That a Mother would die herself...
Beneath the cross.



Details | Free verse | |

Perfect

Perfect

I catch myself thinking
I have to call my mother or
My mother would like
That Christmas card
With the kittens

But there are no more phone calls
And no more Christmases 
For her
Or for me with her

No more wondering
What I would buy a woman who says
“I don’t need anything”?
No more
Complaining that I 
Have to take a bus and a train
And a bus 
To visit her

In a perfect world
I would have been the perfect daughter
More attentive
More caring
More loving

In a perfect heaven
My mother would be with my father
He no longer yells
Or worries about money
Or forgets who she is 
They would sing songs together
As they used to

On a perfect Christmas
There would be a 
Silent Night
And that is what
I have now

But it seems
Less than
Perfect

December 22, 2009


Details | Blank verse | |

Come Glory This All Hallow's Eve

As I drive by the end of days I see a pumpkin and a happy witch on the doorstep of my joy,
As I pass by my four year old’s awe toward friendly ghosts down the street of nostalgia,
I am reminded of Saints gone home and good souls on their penitent journey,
Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes, Countee Cullen, Paul Robeson and the poets of my past,
Hendrix, Morrison, Michael, Louis Armstong and the Sounds of my testimony,
Prince and Wynton Marsalis, Miles Davis, Amadeus, Earth, Wind, and Fire,
Saints living, saints dead, souls vibrant, souls sad in the darkness of regret,
We are a glorious symphony on this, this all Hallows Eve,
The eve of that day when I celebrate the muses of my sacrifice and the foundations of my epiphanies,
“Halloween is here” my youngest daughter exclaims and I am reminded of many a night spent scavenging for sweet things and expectant laughter,
Tragic kings like Edgar Allen and Charlie Parker, souls with so much pregnant genius that the world was too much for them,
It is our celebration dear friends that will move the mountains of discontent,
And so in this season of harvest, carpe diem calls me to absorb as much love as I can as the sun sets on purple leaves and gorgeous corn stalks,
And in mother Africa, the ancestors dance like their Celtic sisters who fused the worship of our Lord and the glory of mother Gaia,
And in mother Africa the land recovers from the grief stricken sting of rape,
And in mother Africa my sisters and brothers celebrate the saints gone forward into that great mystery,
Tecumseh and Black Elk I celebrate the brilliance of your aptitude,
And I cry with you in triumph for the resurrection of a people forsaken but not defeated,
Come Glory,
On this All Hallows Eve, I celebrate the beauty of a journey full of confusion and catharsis,
For the reality is that we truly cannot fail,
As our cloud of witnesses sing to me of the victory that awaits,
Tonight, adorned with the fashion of merriment,
And the subtle chill of October wind reds our lips,
Come Glory and Glory be to the faithful departed,
Happy Halloween!


Details | Rhyme | |

Mothers' Day

Mothers should be celebrated
Every single day,
But instead it’s once a year – 
Well, what is there to say?

You enter into parenthood
And do what you must do.
Quite often, in a family,
The mothers are the glue.

We hold it all together
With a little help from dad;
And wonder, when our kids grow up
What life they’ll think they had.

Psychologists assign us blame.
We must be trauma’s cause;
But hopefully, with age, such thoughts
Will give our children pause.

Perhaps they’ll somehow understand
The depth of how we feel
And recognize a mother’s love
Is bottomless and real.

It’s lovely to receive a card,
Store-bought or made by hand,
‘Cause it acknowledges that sometimes
Things work out as planned.

And, in addition, if you got
To see your kids today,
Appreciate the fact
Good fortune held you in its sway.

Mothers’ Day will soon be gone
Yet if you are in luck,
That glue that you set long ago
Will still be strongly stuck.

The calendar records the time,
One day like any other;
You do not need a holiday
To reach out to your mother.

For she is always there for you
When life gets tough or hard;
Her blood is flowing in your veins – 
She needs no gift or card.


Details | Rhyme | |

Mother's Day

Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is upon us. It’s time to give her what’s come due.
No more taking for granted everything that you know she can do.
Mom ties the family together, holding each in her safe, warm space.
She is everything to everyone as each day takes its place.
Nurse, cook, housewife, taxi, and part of your cheering squad,
Teacher, lover, and tender mom who’ll chase away the storms…
She’ll administer your fever while giving into your every need quite fast.
Then she’ll take you to the doctor, and be the first to sign your cast.
She’ll scold you when you’re wrong, and applaud you when you’re right…
Then still be there to be your friend each and every night.
Then give you a kiss as it’s off to bed while her eyes hold that warming spark.
She’s held your hand, and scared away the monsters each time in the dark.
But better… she’s held you heart forever so close and warm against the daily wars.
And even when she’s gone she’s sworn to be your guardian angel ever more.

All she asks once a year is a simple smile and hug from her special people so true.
So here I am Mother… to say that I Truly Do Love You.