These Imagination Mother poems are examples of Mother poems about Imagination. These are the best examples of Imagination Mother poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Once bloomed a rose so young and fair
With dark brown eyes and long black hair
Beside her be a tall dark tree
Whose branches stretch to smother thee
Too close beside the shadowy bark
That soon begins to leave its mark
She cries for help, but none shall hear
Her thorns too sharp, who’d dare go near?
To save this rose, who’d risk their life?
With naught to gain but pain and strife
Alone, afraid, she lays to rest
Her heart beats low inside her chest
And with the hour growing near
She sheds her final grieving tear
And so the rose soon falls asunder
Her final day, eternal slumber
She lies beside the old dark tree
The only one who mourns for thee
; -A NOTE- ;
***DO NOT ATTEMPT TO***
***FIGURE THIS OUT*******
***JUST SAY HELLO : - )****
***or WHAT?? is FINE*******
***If you are here to make a comment!!*
My towel is made of silk
That does not make sense at all
I can drink bitter sour milk
Once again no sense at all
My busted line holds a stronghold
Confuse are we
A thieve breaks and leaves me gold
Leaving my thinking incomplete ???
In my dream he cut my head
My dreams have a path of a flowerbed
Still puzzled ???
White winter shelter when it comes to snow
a riddle, a riddle
Black the night all over covered by coal
this I do not know
I walk and I have no feet
I speak and I have no mouth
a breathing exercise, wrong as it went
the stick walking got bent
understanding this a bit
My boat is flipped upside right at the end of all weathers
The grave is empty with dirt, full of feathers
wise not to ask
((Last but not least))
The grandmother is tall
The mother came short
The father is black to recall
Some white child of sort
Why the Mexican???
My Son Moon and Star ~
Approaching the celebration of his Birth
cherishing the gift I received
within weeks of conception I knew
something amazing was in Creation ~
the Stars held a party
sending me with one of their own
Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky
It was magic It was destiny taking its flight.
In love with an October full moon
drawing and painting I liked
thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
caught in a loss of time
Hours going by as choosing my color
a wittness to three falling stars
A clear night sky sparkle's
A once Famous Star was sent
inspiring the tiny child inside ~
Never a doubt in my mind at all
child bearing was worth any pain received
yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
one to cherish and hold
My Son was born the following August ~
working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year
as the set of Leverage for 3 years .
Has done a Indie movie here
In Paris it was seen and honored
coming soon filmed in Portland ~
"The House of Last Things "
awaiting the credits , you will see
1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant
My Young Lion Mans dream ~
A proud mom I watch every show and the credits
as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
My Son & Moon and Star
A name you will all know ~
Happy Birthday to my creative Son
you will exist in my heart forever~
PART One,,,, as she saw it.
The mountains and the meadows were always so beautiful this time of year.
It seemed as if a fresh new world always came to life. The high cliffs turned sharply downward. As I sat listening to the ocean tides smashing against the walls of the mountain below. There was a mild breeze blowing from the south. The grass in the flower covered meadows moved with the breeze. The sun shined so brightly I thought it would melt me at times.
As I stood up from the log where I was sitting by the emerald forest, the breeze pressed my dress against me. It formed to the soft round curves of my breast, down through the curves of my waist pushing against my yielding hips. As I blinked from the sun, I saw him there in the distance. I had thought I was alone. But there he was, starring straight at me. What would I do and where could I turn? I knew what kinds of thoughts men had, my mother told me all about them. I saw that he was beginning to move my way !
I saw him there as he saw me. I was paralyzed, not knowing what direction to move. Though as I watched him from afar, he did not seem dangerous as my mother always warned. Still, I could hear her words like a tape recorder in the back of my mind.
Should I dare take my eyes from his? I could see his eyes were dark, maybe brown, or even midnight blue. What ever the color, I could tell they were smoldering with restrained passions. His hair was long to his shoulder blades. I knew that because it moved with the wind. He had broad shoulders with long legs. I knew I must not let him reach me. If his arms entangled me , surely I would never get loose. And, I'm not sure I would want too. Even though I heard the words of my mother, running in my head.
I could feel the tiny beads of sweat trickling down between my breasts. I was not sure I should take my eyes from him as I leaned down to pick up the fan that had slipped from my hand to my bare feet.
PART ONE,,,, As he saw it .
The winter snow had melted and yielded to the bright warming rays of the spring sun. The bears had come out of hibernation with their new born looking for food. The mountains and the meadows were born again, new, fresh and alive with life. Everything was beautiful and as it should be. Birds singing, their mating songs blended with the crash of the surf against the steep cliffs of the mountain. Nature was at peace with itself, and I came here to share in this peace. To be alone with the earth, or so I thought.
I found a place to sit on the grass hidden among the flowers in the high meadows. So I could enjoy the gentle breeze blowing while watching the forest animals. The warm sun caressed my body and warmed me. It was a prefect day, yet something was missing. A day like this needed to be shared with someone, someone special. Stretching, I caught a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, just across the enchanted forest. Of a beautiful women. It couldn't be possible as no one knew of this place. I had come here for years and had never seen a another person before. Yet, there she was. Dressed in a dress the wind made love to, pressing it to her body. Clinging to the sensual curves of her breast, down to her firm waist and full inviting hips. I suddenly felt drawn to her and stood up. I knew she had seen me as she was starring back at me, as I stood staring back at her. She was a vision. And I was afraid she would vanish if I approached her. Yet, she seemed to be smiling, calling to me as I started walking towards her. I remember the stories my grandmother had told me of the enchantresses that lived in this forest, but I did not hesitate. I would give to her anything she wanted, anything she desired.
As I approached her I realized she was real. She seemed to be looking at me, daring me to come closer. All the stories of the enchantress my grandmother had told me flooded my mind with a warning. Yet, she was so beautiful, so inviting and I couldn't take my eyes from her. I was slowly losing control with each and every step that brought me closer to her. I knew I was lost as I felt the heat of my desire to be with her, starting to take control. It was a struggle not to run to this beautiful creature , with the golden hair, and angelic face. As I came closer I couldn't help but notice her sensual breasts rising and falling with each breath she took. She seemed to be smiling, challenging me with everything that made her a beautiful, desirable woman. A woman this sensual, this beautiful, this desirable was surely the enchantress, and I was hers. As a bee is drawn to the flower, I was being drawn to this women.
Suddenly she reached down to pick something up. It was just then I noticed she was barefoot. As she bent over to retrieve what she had dropped, the sun reflected off her spun gold hair. and radiated a golden brightness that was almost blinding. Her dress shifted allowing me to see that her body enhanced her dress, rather then the dress enhancing her body. She would look beautiful in anything she wore. The heat of my desire for her was beginning to consume me with it's fire. I felt the beginnings of ,,,,,,,,,,
Nov. 18 1992,,,, Short story I started to write, A friend ask if he could write from a males point of view.
It started growing in a field
Billy Stover watched it grow
Because the corn was tall
Because Billy Stover was small
No one knew
Now one saw
No one saw how the tiny boy watched by the hour in summer's heat
Even from the top of high elm trees by the road
who could have detected that small lad stretched out
on his stomach leaning on his elbows watching
On stormy days Billy watched from the closest window
elbows propped up on the sill
He knew it was growing though he couldn't see it
He'd be down in the field now in the mud watching
but his mother forbade it
"What do you do out there Billy all by yourself?
What is it you do out there instead of playing?"
On certain days when the wind swayed the green stalks
and nipped Billy's cheeks his eyes would light up
He fought back a burning desire to run into the white kitchen
to tug at his mother's apron to bring her out
and show her his one spot
He jumped up once when the flames leaped high
started running for the house
"Mother! Mother!" he silently shouted
Every part of his small body shook with joy but
The bleak white walls of the kitchen
his mother her hands dipped in bread dough....................................
It started growing in the field in the dirt in the mind of Billy Stover
And no one could have kept a secret better than Billy
Where has dad gone, momma dear?
Hush, my little lamb.
Your dad's gone to the thicket dear
And mad old Abraham
That man went early this grim morn, and took his sharpened knife
And with him took his own first born, to offer up his life
With servants and with firewood, both, they journeyed to Moriah
And on the hillside there they built an altar and a fire
And Isaac, when he heard the plan, went willingly, it's odd
That he should let that daft old man, so worship his cruel god.
Your father, he was passing by, and heard but could not see
And foolishly could not deny his curiosity
So closer did your father scramble peering through the thorns
Unaware of how the brambles tangled with his horns
Just to see a crazy man who planned to kill his kin
Your father did not understand the danger he was in
For then again that mad old man started hearing voices
His god was speaking to the loon and giving him new choices
And so his plan to slay the boy came about to falter
And Abraham, he took your pa and dragged him to the altar
But that was never fair, mama, can you tell me why
When Isaac he was all prepared and well prepared to die
And all had been decided on, so what cruel trick mama
Was played upon that grand old ram, who was my own papa?
Life is not fair, my little lamb, nor is it like to change
And fate plays tricks on all of us, both sinister and strange
So you take care, my little lamb, with this advice from me
Do not visit places where you know you should not be
The moral of this story dear, is take heed of the odds
And stay away from two-leggies worshipping their gods
I laugh as I think of it now, the dire warnings of hell
Nothing could scare me it didn’t matter, on this teaching I never did dwell.
I wondered why one dark night, again begging for sleep.
No fear of death of dying no foolish promises to keep.
It was then I found the answer as I slipped down through the floor
Could this be a dream or am I now no more.
Has death come upon me, I feel the air exude from my chest
Through eons of time yet seconds, maybe days or years at best.
Before me an evil thing but there are no brimstone and flames
“Now we will see this hell you mocked and you will know my name.
You never flinched about the hell threat but you are now here
Not only that I am your father and now you will know real fear.”
He breathed in deep; my skin scorched, it left my body in one piece
The agonies, I must be dead my skin floating in front just like a fleece
My muscles sinews and skeleton were all that I now had
“I thought you were my father I screamed you can’t treat me this bad.”
A thousand legions of devils all came round mocking me
Each breath they turned my way seemed to rip parts off of me
“You will learn to master them but until then you have to pay
You start at the bottom in this work.” then the hounds of hell did bay.
“To inflict the tortures required to give me the satisfaction
You must first suffer them all, that is my attraction.
When you have suffered them all you will know what to do
My work will be in your hands this is my legacy to you.”
“But how can you be my father?” I screamed as the hell hounds tore at me
“My mother was the sweetest woman on earth and all around could see.”
“Ha! I am the devil why would I want a whore,
They are already down here; it was sweetness I searched for.”
“Your mother scorned me, she did not believe in all the hellish games I play
So I showed her my powers and you are with me from this day.
You should have listened to the teachers teaching of my home called hell.”
He waved his finger at me and the screams I could not quell.
Now I wish I had listened and taken an earthly fear
It could have made a difference, I may not now be here.
I take delight in dismembering and gouging out the eyes
Flaying the skin off the ungodly, yet I do it for a prize.
One day I will rule this place then my turn will come
I’ll leave this underworld one day and do what my father has done
I’ll take a woman for my wife the sweetest there ever walked
And pass on my inheritance to the offspring that hell balked.
The man with the plastic bug in his head
monopolized my dreams last night
in the place that the horsefly of my dignity
finally surrender to the impresario without a fight.
Seven days and 7 hours transplanted in my memorabilia
reminding the rustiness of the purple child
flatterers danced beneath the clouds of melancholy
and morality spreader the master plan inside my mind.
The disinheritance of my immortality the final day
discouraged my desire to see the forbidden love
restored my will to escape
manipulated the deep of the uncertainty above.
Released from the plastic bug in my head
try to cover my yellow child in the purple sky
seven days and seven hours before he dies.
Singing happy song
Love in its purity bonding
Daddy slips into the arms of another woman
just reach your hand out to the sky
pull your loved ones back to your side
lets get to say one more goodbye
for we never wanted them to go away and die
as now the days and nights lay
in such sweet disguise
so let us once again our lord
stare into their illumating eyes
as we reach out for them
in your broad horizon sky
and get to hold and kiss them
even if their not by our sides
for if this is however feels when we die
then I'd like to be that angel in that sky
so I can just reach out right back
and wipe their tears too from their eyes
Tribute To Our Loved Ones
On The Other Side
May You All RIP