Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Mother Home Poems | Mother Poems About Home

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Narrative | |

Will You Tie My Shoes When I Grow Old

You were beautiful, 
my tiny child, 
wrapped tightly in my arms, 
close to my heart.
I listened to you breathing.
I counted your fingers
and your toes.
Helpless, 
you cried out to me
and I loved you
with every ounce of my soul.

Will you hear me
when I cry out? 
Will you hold me close
as I held you then? 

I remember the day
You took your first step.
There was no stopping you.
Your feet gave you freedom
to explore the world
like never before
but danger lurked.
I opened those doors anyway, 
cautiously, 
and introduced
you to the world.
Where will you be
when my legs
no longer run? 
no longer work? 
Will you realize
that I love
freedom too? 

I laugh
about that day
you first tied your shoe.
We tried and tried
to get that rabbit
in that hole
and you finally did it.
You pointed your toes
for everyone to see
how proud you were.

I am proud too, 
of my writing
and my drawing, 
of my needlework
and my cooking.
But my hands are beginning to ache
and my fingers will not bend.
I will lose the things
that make me proud
except for you.
Hopefully not you.
Will you let me
brag on you? 
Even tell wild stories
that are a bit beyond the truth? 
Will you be proud of me too? 

I waved good-bye
that morning when you left
on that large, yellow bus.
I was so scared.
I know you were too.
You waved at me bravely
through the dusty window
but I saw the water
forming in your eyes.
You came home, however, 
full of pride and joy.
You sang the alphabet song
and got most of it right.
You practiced for hours
until you could sing it
even in your sleep.

But 
I'm afraid.
I forgot
whether I took
my pills today or not.
I forgot
if I told this story before.
I even forgot once
who you were
and it terrified me.
My mind
is my treasure
the only thing I have left, 
and I heard you make
fun of me
for not remembering
that I gave you the
same gift as last year.
Will you love me
when I no longer
know who I am? 

You came home blushing
from the glow of
your first kiss.
Your first love, 
the one you thought was real.
You talked about him non-stop.
You changed for him. You gave.
But he left you anyway
for a blue-eyed girl
and I held you
while you cried for him.

I too have a
broken heart.
The love of my life
left me after
fifty-six years.
He left me here
to live life on my own
while he moved on
to another realm
And I cry for him too.
I long for his shoulder
and strong embrace.
I feel betrayed
because he and I
made a deal
that we would never
leave the other alone.
Yet I am alone
sitting in an echoing house
with no hands to hold.

You welcomed her home today- 
your tiny baby girl.
She has your eyes
and possibly your toes.
I see you counting them
as they roll me
into the room.
You finally came
to visit.
It has been a while.

You look up at me
with tears in your eyes
and ask
almost desperately, 

"Will she tie my
shoes
when I get old? "


Details | I do not know? | |

Mother -- Come Home





Sitting with her now
       Watching 
How did she get so old?
       How did I get so old?
So many pills
       Green, blue, white, red, yellow, orange
All kinds of shapes
       Round, oval, oblong – big and small
A tackle box with markings
       Monday through Sunday

We talk and laugh . . . then
       A knock on the door!
I’ll get it
      A police officer – young, clean shaven
As I open the door
      I jokingly yell . . .  He’s here to arrest you mom!
Sir, I do need to speak with your mother. . . 
      What, Oh . . . come in

Mrs. Meade, did you hit another car?
      Her face showed confusion, concern . . . fear
With a trembling voice . . . No officer,  I    dd i d        not
      I followed the young man to the garage
A scrape, red paint, a missing mirror
     My heart sank
Thinking to myself – is she lying?
     Or does she not realize what she has done?
Does it matter?
     The time has come . . . 

As I hug this frail old woman
     Shoulders shaking, tears soaking my shirt
I whisper in her ear
    Do not fear . . . everything will be OK . . . . I love you
Standing there I realized 
    Our roles had changed 
Come my darling 
    It is time for you to live with us
Happy Mother’s day
    I do love you! 









David Meade
May 10, 2015
Love Generously 


Details | Couplet | |

She Calls Me Home

She Calls Me Home…

At days long end
Left on troubles shore
When I just know
I can't take anymore
When the last light
Of hope is gone

She calls me home
She calls me home

When my thoughts
Are racing round
And I can't find
A friend in this town
When every door
Has turned out wrong

She calls me home
She calls me home

She calls me home
To her embrace
Wipes the tears
From my tortured face

Calms my soul
Til the demons are gone
And with her sweet voice
She calls me home

When the dark
Won't give up light
When the wrong
Outscores the right
When the noise
Outdoes the song

She calls me home
She calls me home

When the clouds
Won't seem to break
And the sky
Just seems to ache
And the sun's
Completely gone

She calls me home
She calls me home

She calls me home
To her embrace
Wipes the tears
From my tortured face

Calms my soul
Til the demons are gone
And with her sweet voice
She calls me home


Details | Sonnet | |

Blossoms And Bubbles

Dancing butterflies and laughter
without a care. A day full of sweet
smelling blossoms fill the air.

Sister's golden hair glistened in the
Summer sun's glow, as Mother blew
colorful bubbles that bounced off
her little nose.

Mother's  heart was always full of
love to share and the day of blossoms,
and bubbles will forever in my memories
be kept with  loving care.

Precious and few are moments shared
together. This wonderful day of blossoms
and bubbles, in my heart will last forever.


April 6, 2015


Details | I do not know? | |

That Bullet Was For You

While walking through a hospital one day, a veteran I did see
He was in a wheelchair with both legs missing, and he did it for you and me.

I turned around a corner and down another hall
Only for my eyes to behold a family who has lost it all

A five year old cried out,"Why did daddy have to die?"
The mother held her son closer while she greived and began to cry

The mother of that young Marine, who had fought over in Iraqu
Wandered why her son so brave, didn't survive the enemie's attack

The father of that soldier, hung his head to cry
He was a retired soldier himself, why couldn't he have been the one to die?

His heart broken sister, sits in shock and tries to deny
The death of her older brother, he was killed and don't know why

A few days later, a family, everybody all dressed in black
Went to the funeral of a twenty-five year old who too our bullet in Iraq

The Bible says "thou shalt not kill." and "Love your neighbor" too
Maybe our soldiers aren't doing what's right, but they still take your bullet for you

They sleep in foxholes, and eat in trenches, and do all that they know to do
They rest in the sand with no comforts of home and they take your bullet for you

The restless nights turn into days, you wouldn't believe all they go through
THe rest of us sit at home and gripe, and still they take your bullet for you

The next time you hear a 21 gun salute, don't condemn as others do
The next time the taps are being played, remember, they took that bullet for you.


Thanks, Veterans for your sacrifice.


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


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The Other Mom

I was laying on the beach
On a hot August morn
A sudden pain in my gut
I knew that something was wrong
It's Eddie.  I felt it so strong
I Picked up my cell and I called
The emotional pain of it all
My body curled up in a ball
I sat up again to be sure, 
the solar plexus was sore
Why to I question these signs
I know that there isn't a cure
For the feelings I want to ignore
He never answered the phone
I packed up my stuff and went home
I worried all day and all night
The sunrise brought more than just light
The loud banging began at the door
I peeked through the blinds to be sure
There were cops all over the street
Guns drawn made the picture complete
I opened the door full of fear
Oh my God!  Why are they here?
My heart dropped, I wanted to hide
When he said "Sgt. White, homicide."
Is your son home he wanted to know
With his foot in the door I said no
Do you mind if we just have a look
And I backed up after biting the hook
They swarmed through the house 
Guns up in the air
Upstairs to his room
They looked everywhere
My solar plexus was right
I'm glad I came home last night
But where did he go?  I needed to know
His innocence still in my sight
The officer said have a seat
Let's talk about where he could be
A boy was found dead in the street
A witness put Ed at the scene
Don't worry he said as I pulled my robe tight
Your son was a victim of robbery last night
I know he's afraid to come out in the light
I didn't believe him.  But I knew he was right.
My son was afraid and now I knew why
He took someone's life who's mother will cry
He was just seventeen a year younger than Ed
Why do these kids seem to be so misled?

What happened that night is a mom's biggest fear
A child was lost in the drug war I hear
The exchange in the alley of weed for the cash
Was a set up to rob him of all  that he had
When the kid put a gun against my son's head
Said 'empty your pockets' or soon you'll be dead
He had no idea that the pocket was packed
With a 38 special protecting the cash
The rest of story is packed in a box
The panic, the fear, the action, the shock
He emptied the gun and ran for his life
While Nicholas bled on the pavement that night
My heart cries to God asking why must I be
The mom of the kid who killed her baby
I cry for her loss as if it were mine
I beg her forgiveness, and I offer her mine.
You don't want to be either one of these moms
Our children at risk, a sign of the times
God please shine Your light on this good Earth today
We're all human beings who've just lost our way.


Details | Personification | |

I am a Swallow

Turning and dipping in graceful, acrobatic flight,
my spirit soars against a sky brilliantly blue;
from these heights, I view life in its completeness,
its complex boundaries and limitations sharply defined.
I maintain my composure, calm and unruffled by the storms . . .
I sail above the strife where the sun spreads warmth upon my wings.

From this lofty perspective, I watch over my dearest ones.
This clear air provides treasures of wisdom, beauties like the facets of precious jewels,
sparkling with the vibrance that makes joy complete;
I glean and feed them to my little ones,  giving them nutrients to enrich their minds.

Home is my central focus. 
I learn and implement all that I can to make my nest comfortable and complete,
a rich environment for growth. 

Do not intrude; I protect what is mine.

May 11, 2015

I am a swallow--protection, warmth, home, proper perspective.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Dream

It came in a dream

my face all blue

she saw my death

somehow she new

stay home this night 

she begged of me

but a young girl wants to be free

the knife plunged in deep

I recalled her words and began to weep

stay home this night she begged of me

but a young girl wants to be free

the rope around me

I did not struggle

for I knew my fate

should have listened to my mother

but now it's much too late

I close my eyes and wait to die

and finally fall asleep

I wake to hear the end of her prayer

"I pray the Lord your soul to keep"

I open my eyes

I am not dead

Mom  has a wash cloth on my head

You have a fever

It's pretty high

try to sleep she says with a sigh


Details | Free verse | |

It hurt me

Sitting here knowing that you are laying in that bed
Helpless on meds that you dont want to be on
Not knowing were you are
It hurt me to see you that way Mother
Praying to the Lord that you are going to be ok
Praying that he dont take you so soon away
I hate this so much
Seeing you in and out and its nothing I can do
I just wish apon a star
That all your sickness go away
and you dont have to deal with this no more
It sucks spending your Bday in that bed 
I pray that that you get better soon
so you can come home
I pray that all this go away and you never have to deal with this any more
No matter what we go though
I only have one mother
and I dont know how I would live my life without you
Please come home and get better 
So i can stop this crying
Please all your pain and sickness go away
So I dont have to worry about getting that call oneday
and I am not there by your side
You are my mother and I love you
If you have a mother and you all are not on the best term
Its best to do that soon
Because you never know when they time is up
I love you mother
My one and only Queen
Please get better and come home soon


Details | I do not know? | |

I love you mom

Long day at work and it already hurts
To know when I go home it will get nothing but worse

Im tired of going home to an empty fridge 
If she knew she was going to be on drugs why have any kids?

Hurting me to see her who gave me birth
Drugged up on who knows what I sit and sob in a shirt

Constant accusations of things I never do 
I'm going to stop right here wont even mention abuse 

When I step into that house its like a cloud of sadness
Been going on for years no way to stop this madness 

So many tears in my eyes its tearing me apart 
Nothing can add up to the embarassment and shame in my heart 

Expecially when all my friends have the "perfect mom"
Comming home to depression some nights I lay and sob 

What hurts the most Is I dont want to leave
I want to "stay and help mommy" its sad indeed

I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night
Praying to god as I cry to make everything right

"Please lord help my mom work things through"
"Her addiction is getting worse I dont know what to do"

"For her no one is there I dont even think they're aware"
"Infact I am the only one who still even cares"

"Lord I sit and stare as her conditions get worse"
"I need some guidance tell me where to start first"

I lay back in my bed and cry myself to sleep 
Thinking will she ever stop before it gets too deep?

Sunrises in the morning back up for work!
"Positive attitude" policy so I put on a smirk

Headed out the door for another long hard day 
Forcing on a smile thinking "its going to be okay"..


Details | Verse | |

I'm Going Home

,

Lord thank you for this life,
As I have lived a full life,
It was not always as I would have like,
But I lived it to the best of what I could,
I’m going home; Home to the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me,
I have been a long weary believer, 
As I’ve been away to long,
I now know what I’ve been searching for, 
As He's been there in me all along,
I’m going home; Home is the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me,
I have been and seen lots of places in life’s journey,
Now I yearn for familiar faces in familiar places,
I hear familiar voices calling me to come home, 
I see familiar faces looking at me,
I’m going home; Home is the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me,
My time is near, the hour I know not,
I see Jesus' face across the Heaven’s,
I hear His soft sweet voice calling me home,
 I can’t wait for my real life to begin,
I’m going home; Home is the place I want to be,
I’m going home to Jesus where He waits for me.

By; Rev. Samuel and Esta Mack, OMS
Copyright 2011

VISIT US AT: http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com


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 | Light Poetry | |

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU

I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.


Details | Rhyme | |

THE SEVEN DIVISIONS OF WOMANHOOD

To Shakespeare I give all due respect,
But the world must be a huge theater I suspect.
Woman’s the major player if not the star,
For she influences all with love from afar.
The main acts of her drama as one envisions,
Occur for my audience in seven divisions. 

First the helpless infant in her nurse’s arm,
Fresh from God’s hands smiling and warm.
Yet guiltless and untouched by worldly strife,
She is but a stranger to sin in this dawn of life.
In her pink crib she looks cute and pure,
With a smile on her lips so modestly demure.

Next as a tender young girl of school age,
With pigtails and grace she enters the stage.
An innocent young girl loving dolls and toys,
She has no taste for bruises, math or boys.
Her voice is like music whenever she speaks,
Explaining with emotion the desire she seeks.

In the sweet summer age she becomes a blossom,
And weathers the waves in the role of stardom.
Now she’s a young lady with a pure, creative mind,
Nursing dreams of a life moral and refined.
When put into the orbit of heart-consuming men,
Overcoming dying hope, her world she has to win.

As a wife she makes her home a true nirvana,
 Winning from the man she loves her merited honor.
 She is in hard times his source of consolation,
And in times of pleasure his joy and elation.
As a lover and a mate she continues to perform,
Keeping house and home through every storm.

Now for the most blessed age of female life,
She assumes the role of mother as well as wife.
Like God's miracle, the first is released with a hurl,
Then with tears and a scream from womb to world.
Before long baby laughs aloud and pleads for caress,
And mother love with playful smile grants the request.

Next the vestiges of youth appear a distant dream,
And spring's lovely buds now attest to her final esteem,
As she enters her mournful stage of the widow's woe,
Her glance upon her children falls as her eyes overflow.
She has lost all her young heart once fondly enjoyed,
And in the business of change of life she's fully employed.     

 With the final division, youth is now a faded flower,
 And she can bask in the coolness of the evening hour.
 As she enjoys the reflection of her progeny having fun,
 She is reminded that maternal pleasures are not yet done.
 She continues to impart knowledge necessary to sustain,
 As she guides their hopes to reach for the heavenly domain.



Details | Sestina | |

My Mother Jean, A Maverick

Alberta “Jean,” the different one was she since her birth and among her family. This redhead born of parents with dark hair had felt herself an odd plain duck; in prayer she’d kneel and on her father’s farm was awed by nature. In the fields, she’d pray to God. With fervent adoration for her God, she searched for truth. A maverick was she. She left her parents’ church, for she was awed by teachings not those of her family. The Gospel she discovered through deep prayer dismayed her folks, as had her bright red hair! Upon her birth, because of her red hair, her folks had joked she wasn’t theirs, but God would lead her to a new life. On a prayer, she traveled west. A restless soul was she - the one to leave her home and family to find her niche; by her bold move I’m awed. By all the things she did back then, I’m awed. She joined the Navy. Jean, with bobbed red hair, would meet my dad and start a family. Great trials came to her. She called on God. To go back home then was the answer she was given after long and pleading prayer. She had to leave my dad. I know through prayer this answer came to her. Again I’m awed because with us, her four small daughters, she became a single mom. She wore long hair up in a bun, worked hard, had faith in God, and married someone else with family. Eight children then were in our family. My mother taught her step kids about prayer, affecting all our lives. Her trust in God is never-ending, and we all are awed. . . . She’s 80, widowed, and still has red hair and goes out dancing!! Rare indeed is she! With faith in God, Jean raised a family. No need of fame has she, for she has prayer and grandkids awed now by her still red hair!
* see about poem for more info on Jean *I tried to make this one like a rhyming Sestina. Instead of choosing just any six words to repeat at the end of each line, I decided to use three pairs of words that rhymed with each other. The position of the words changes from stanza to stanza, but I think the rhyming aspect still holds strong.


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)


Details | Narrative | |

Granny And Your last glass of water

He starts singing songs of Ireland and we are home in a jiffy
"What's a jiffy," my mother wonders
"Guess  where we went Granny?"
"I don't know but I have a feeling you are gonna tell me," answers my grandmother
"And Don't call me Granny!"
"We went to church so Poppy could ask secret questions."
"The priest gave Poppy a shot and a beer and Poppy sent me next store and he gave me money for  taffy."
"He told me not to tell anyone especially you about the priest cause it's only for the priests ears."
"He said God would take away taffy and I'd never get another goodie and God would strike me dead if I told."
"So I can't tell anyone."
"He did," and she starts yelling and grabs a weapon,"what kind of idiot would be scaring a little child?"
Granny is standing on  Poppy's toes and and asking him questions of where he'd been and getting a sniff of his breath
"So what did you tell  the priest and him giving you consolation and a shot and beer."
"That little rat ," and thinks about the money for candy
Later, Granny is chasing Poppy with that big iron frying pan and poppy running and singing
"In Heaven they have no beer, that's why we drink it here."
"You damn fool I'm gonna bust you in the head, "and throws the pan at his head
And later
Cousin Francis has bill collectors come to the house looking for him
Granny was four foot seven  inches and she starts kicking him in the shin
My Mother grabs his Dick Tracy hat and she jumps on it and flattens it
I ask my mom where I was when this happened and she pauses
" You were in Heaven Patrick waiting with your brother!"
The truancy officers bang on the door and want to know where Uncle Charles is
Granny shrugs and says, "He is upstairs and the sound of the window going up sounds
They all run upstairs and see Uncle sliding down the tree and running as fast as his
seven year legs can move
He comes home later that evening holding a goose under his arm
And Poppy has a soft-boiled goose egg for breakfast every morning
I ask Uncle what happened to that goose and He said,"one day he came home  and
they had chicken for dinner."
And Poppy was gone to heaven to get me and my brother ready Mom says
And Granny sits my brother and me on her lap and says,"you two knuckleheads listen up."
"This is very important so don't forget it."
"Treat people the way you want to be treated, because you never know who is going to hand you your last glass of water"


Details | Rhyme | |

No Job Can't Pay the Bills TRY JESUS


Here I sit, uncertain of what lies ahead.
I’m still wondering how my family will be fed.

I once had a job that provided a sense of “security.”
Now I don’t…  And I have a lot of uncertainty!

I have unpaid bills, and I’m not sure what to do.
I’ve asked for help.  But not sure who to turn to!

I get discouraged, and feel life “pulling me down.”
I’ve tried just about every job that’s in town.

The dreams I had, have been shattered and smashed.
At times, I feel like I’m just “a piece of trash.”

My wife tried to support me, the best that she can.
But she doesn’t know me…  Or even understands!

Dear Jesus…  You’re the only left that I haven’t tried.
There’s been many nights I laid awake and cried!

I read in the Bible, where your love for me is real!
When I call on your name...  There’s a love I can feel!

Whatever happens, please help me Lord, to trust you!
Whatever tomorrow holds, may I still love you!

I know that you’re a foundation, that I can stand on!
Jesus is a friend!  That I can always depend on!

Jesus, if I lose everything that I have or that I hold on to...
My I always remember your faithfulness
 and never forget you!

Here I stand… With my burdens lifted from me!
It’s because of Jesus!  And how much he loves me!

I praise HIS name!  And lift my hands to the sky!
He’s in control now!  I don’t have to ask the reason why!

Jesus…  Please take control of my worries and desires!
Above all of my problems, I lift your name up higher!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Sonnet | |

My first mothersday

I remember the days of emptiness
no one seemed to be  anywhere around
Love and warmth became lesser than less
the killing silence the only ear deafening sound

I'm Cathryn(*) and you're Elly I presume
"feel and be your own you and it's totally okay with me"
my dearest second mom entered the room
she sat simply and silently right in front of me 

I felt no longer like a worthless black swan 
her tender love and care made me feel fine
suddenly there was that shoulder to cry on
and my mother who recognized me and what was mine

she shared her inner beauty now mirrored in me
she gave birth to the little girl I always wanted to be

Written for "Sonnet on a Intimate Relationship - Poetry Contest"
09/02/2014
(c) Elly Wouterse

(*) in Dutch spelled "Cathrien'.. 


Details | Chant Royal | |

Mama I thought of you today

Mama I thought of you today
By Lawrence M Nunez

Mama I thought of you today,
Couldn’t help but remember your sweet smile
And soft whisper as you lay on your bed
I prayed the Lord for comfort and peace 
That you these days may live by grace.
For now we know by your work stained hands 
We surely are blessed 

Mama I thought of you today,
When as a child you held my hand
As I walked through life little troubles
You told me you can’t fight my battles 
But to stand, fight and defend myself
Don’t you start any fights you said, but don’t get beat up
Surely I am blessed, to have a mama like you.

Mama I thought of you today,
When as a teenager fresh out of high school
I came home my first job I wanted to quit
You said my child you have to stoop before you can kick
Reluctantly I returned, endured and worked hard
You taught me the value of hard work
Today I am blessed with the virtues you taught

Mama I thought of you today	
Manly I stand, spouse and kids at my side,
Well molded and shaped for success.
Though it was rough, today with pride I smile,
As I stop and think of the wisdom you did impart.
The unconditional love you treasured in your heart,
I am blessed to share today with family and friends.

Mama I thought of you today,
As I knelt by my bed to pray
I thank the good Lord for the times we had
When you thought me how tovlive, love and pray
Now I pray the Lord to smile on you
To hold your hands and comfort you
As I whisper, mama I love you


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)






Details | Sonnet | |

Megan's Hit

        MEGAN'S HIT
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"
I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!
I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!
    He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
    to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!

                    II.

"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
and then I vowed to get us in the game!
I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!
"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!
   Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
   while I choked up--and readied for a hit!
   
                   III.

All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"
The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!
I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!
   The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
   a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!

                   IV.

The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!
The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be 
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!
The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"
   Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
   and on his heels--I made my promise good!

                V.

We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!
The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!
I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me! 
    Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
    the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Free verse | |

Will We Know Him

Will We Know Him?

Will we know Him if He stood in front of us?
If He walked by us on the street?
Will we know Him?
If we have a chance to meet Him in our  lifetime?
In that split second that we meet Him?
Our eyes met for the first time?
Will we know Him?
Yes reading the moment we stood side by side?
Our smiles are very clear
Our heart jumps around
Yes we do know Him?
That look, and that feeling
When we know we've found our home
Yes we do know Him
Yes we know what to say to Him
As we walk away together
Yes we know Him as He knows us His children
We are finally together

Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Copyright 2013

http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com


Details | Sonnet | |

Temporary Home

 
They’ve traveled from one house to another.  
Some may say they’re strong enough to go on 
Without a woman to call their mother. 
Attachment is pointless, soon to be gone.  
 
Another house that will never be home.  
Little children crying themselves to sleep,
wondering where they will be next to roam. 
All they can do is to hope and to weep. 

Will they love me enough now, I wonder.
Shall I go away or shall I stay here?
At night, I can still hear the loud thunder
of his footsteps drawing so very near. 

Though I may never find my one true home,
For love, I’ve found- I’m no longer alone.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

As my Mother Slips Away

I called my mother the other day- just to listen to her voice
She answered dear Steve – yes this is me- how are you this day
I said I was fine- it has been some time- I searched for more words to talk
She cantered a bit then came to a halt- as I began to say 
Mother dear- this is Mark- how are you today 
Mark she replied- I have a Mark- he was the oldest of three
How is school - are you making good grades- are you coming home real soon
I told her I would- If only I could- would she know me anyway
I visited my mother the other day- at a home for Alzheimer patients
Her stare in the air- made it be known- that she could not remember
I sat by her side- we nibbled on crackers- we looked out the window pane 
Then I was father- she told me she miss me –I cried a thousand tears
She reached for my hand- I did not resist- I was blessed to make her happy
How are you Tom- I said I was fine- The kids will be home soon
I told her it’s time- I must go home - I have to work tomorrow 
I took her hand- I’ll see you soon- Goodbye Steve she told me

As my Mother slips away today- how precious are my memories
For after this world –I can hardly wait- for my Mother to recognize me


Details | Rhyme | |

Daddys Coming Home

My Daddy’s coming home, he promised Mom and me
He told us not to worry; he was safe as he could be
He’ll wear his vest and helmet and stay out of the crowd
My Daddy’s in the Army and he serves his country proud
It’s just another tour he said like the ones before
My Daddy’s coming home some day but today he is at war

We didn’t hear from Daddy, though he said he’d call each day
My Mommy said don’t worry but let’s kneel down and pray
We thank God for our Daddy and to keep him safe and warm
Like he did the last time and back in Desert Storm
We tell God that we love him and that all we’re praying for
Is Daddy coming someday but today he is at war

We haven’t heard from Daddy; it seems for quite a while
We still kneel down and pray for him but Mommy’s lost her smile
Friends keep coming over and they pray with her too
My Mommy looks so tired and sad; I don’t know what to do
Today my Mom was crying when she hung up the phone
She said that was the Army and their sending Daddy home

I said let’s pray for Daddy and knelt down by her side
She didn’t help me with the words; she just knelt down and cried
I knew something had happened but I was scared to ask
I asked God to take over; he handles all those tasks
Then I got this funny feeling, my Daddy’s not alone
He’s with some fallen soldiers and God’s bringing them back home

My Daddy’s going home today like he promised Mom and me
Home to be with Jesus for all eternity


With Memorial Day coming up, I thought I would share this with all of you.  IF you 
like this check out my poems - A Little Hill IN Arlington and MIA Hill


Details | Couplet | |

Home

I can hear the horses snorting, outside my bedroom window,
Even though it comes, from so many years ago;

Cotton from the cottonwoods flying through the air,
Making whitened dapples on my palomino mare;

The hounds are all out baying, it must be dinner time;
In my tiny little neighborhood, I was never scared of crime;

Family surrounded me, aunts and uncles all around,
It was quiet on our little street, no sirens made a sound;

My cousins and I would play outlaws, and we’d hide out for a day;
Making mighty forts from the fifty tons of hay;

It never really changed much, as I grew up through the years,
And remembering that it’s gone, always brings me close to tears.


(My Parents sold the house I grew up in last year - It still breaks my heart)


Details | Concrete | |

Observer

A serpent underneath blue sky,
in shade of man, in twinkle of an eye,
above brick wall, in the structure, at the floor,
venom of white dove; contaminated food, undrinkable water,
misguided youth, pregnant daughter, unfaithful father and hateful son,
mothers do pray while we walk through Babylon;
on teli and in the press, on top shells,
price none the less, in bedroom and at your door..
dawn of a new day seemed to be dark,
after all.


Details | Free verse | |

Three days Saved

It's been nine years, I have counted the tears-
  they have made trails of guilt
  worried into my heart 
  then filled with loneliness and bitter despair
but by your grace I have been shown...

For the first time, in these nine years, I have not wept
  nor held a vigil to honor our grief
though the loss still burns, this time it is transformed

Peace from your love still reaches through death
  and through your eternal love I am reborn
  
 It is Good Friday. 
When God took your spirit home
  and left me dying to know,
  how to love him for his sacrifice
  when he asked me to give up you?
How do I heal this death and rise with you in his arms?

Through your love I was born, and in your arms I grew
 and it has been your love the kept me whole
 that taught me how to be reborn
    for even though your body has gone
    your words lost in the wind and breath no more
The essence of grace and strength you lived
- it grows still in your daughter soul

My being and existence came from your womb
  my heart and mind shaped by your enlightenment
I have lived a life you gave me and for once
   I live it in pride to honor your sacrifice
your words giving me the guidance I'd lost nine years ago.

Alas, I've come to know, that as you died
  and went home with our Lord, you saved me from my death
not in your dying, my grief and love can attest,
    but in your living strength and loving example
       you showed me how to live a life
             open to our Father's gift

We knew it would not wait, but the parting was too fast.
I sat in thought three days before your sleep and asked,
"In three days time my savior died, I wonder hence
   what of my soul will rise with his?"

And now sitting Easter morning, 
  holding my sons candy-filled basket,
I realized Three days passed.

  He took you home Friday morn, but left me love,
that eternal love that never dies
whose comfort is unending

I honor your love by giving it to my children
         and Easter morning I felt your hug, your kiss, and knew 
                                 you have never left me
.
Though God took you home Mom
I know you have never left me
for as our Savior died and rose
you too still live in my heart, 
showing me proof our Father's blessings

    because you, my love, are my soul and all ready there
there fore I am strong enough to give this pain up 
       to honor his sacrifice and transcend,
           to be humbled by the grace and mercy
          that could forgive such lost lambs as I