Mother sat in her aromatic garden,
admiring its charm and grace.
It was a cold morning,
but mother never seemed to feel it any more.
Her eyes were tired, life's horrors had taken their toll,
yet the smallest things filled them with joy.
Like the perennial ivory lilies blossoming
among her loyal, royal forget-me-nots.
The tranquil scent of lilac lavender, blooming
among radiant Jerusalem sage, always made her smile.
Her hands were wrinkly, but resilient,
despite years of hard work as a single mother.
Still strong enough to tend to her grandiose display
of ruby red, aureolin yellow and puce pink roses.
Mother always told me the thorns were like knights,
there to protect the rose's fragility, that a woman
is a man's most precious flower, requiring tender care.
Evergreen conifers paraded along the perimeter of
my beloved mother's garden like a colony of soldiers
protecting a beautiful, yet delicate, Japanese cherry blossom tree.
Mother always told me it reminded her about life,
how everything was temporary, just like its fragile buds
that only blossomed in the spring and the lightest breeze blew them away.
Mother had taught me so much and was my inspiration,
picked me up when I was defeated, taught me that only in defeat do we learn.
When the world tried to change me, taught me to accept myself,
to love myself before I could love others and be true to who I am.
As I sat with my mother admiring the beauty of the seeds sown,
melancholic tones flooded my emotions, wondering how I would cope without her.
Was I selfish wishing to die before her, so I would not have to mourn for her;
but that would be so heartbreaking for her, who would have to mourn for me.
My contemplation was interrupted by an outbreak of rain.
Mother simply smiled and reminded me, "Rain is mercy from God, my son."
26 February 2016
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016
Opening the closet of narra doors, I sweep through
organza skirts and gemmed ringlets; my hair
ruffling aimlessly upon scalloped kerchiefs
smelling decade - old hyacinth, Mom’s favorite
ambrosia: she would lift her anklets
in tiptoed hums, ”night and day, you are the one..”
Evenings touched her candle hands; hands
that soothed wounded knees from jackstone fights;
her fingers caressing a pony -tailed girl’s wrath
with piano keys rippling into a gentle moan;
“night and day you are the one…”
And i am delivered from my tempestuous rants.
From nowhere, the porcelain mirror gazed at me;
her rhythm of silence billows, cradling my nights
with each veil of her almond eyes
that enter into my irises: a serene sight
too close, much too tight I clung to her unspoken word.
Through years, I grew like a bamboo shoot: her quiet smiles
and music walked me through reality’s maze.
And how I would wail bearing the grim of hard study,
coughing late, late hours of reading toil…yet,
she stayed like a moth with charm flushed
in a wind of calm gaze, ebbing .
And only Mom could melt my temper
when my raging soul paused to wonder
at her light’s glow: oh, her feminine beat illumined
more lamplights dancing inside this rebellious head…
and now, she hovers around me.
I become her eyes, chanting, “night and day,
you are the one” ; never balking at my surreal conquests.
She is gone bequeathing warmth into my torched flights
without question; with much love dripping
from her graceful movement, straying all through
these my breaths: “night and day, you are the one…”
Judy Konos' Contest
Tell Us About Your Mom
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
All I hear are sirens echoing off tall buildings; a drunk man ranting, a prostitute looking for her next trick, a drug addict looking for his next fix. Young teenage kids who seem to have just learned the art of curse. A young couple fist fighting in the streets---more sirens. A homeless man pan-handling, picking up cigarette butts and smoking a hole into his neck, gum pushed deeper into concrete marked blacker with every step. All I hear are sirens and I say a little prayer for the person in the back. Trains and boats chiming in the distance, a stray cat limping into an unknown existence...must be nice to have nine lives! Yet, all I hear are sirens in this concrete urban forest, where trees are replaced with buildings and cars are the only waves I hear, street lights in place of the stars, sirens in place of the wind.
I close my paper eyelids tight, i can hear in this concrete urban forest of man-nature, for a glimpse, a stolen second in time, the sound of Mother Nature...she still sings and she's crying. She's crying for the people in the back of all those sirens. She cries for her bush the drunk man urinated on; the puddle of blood collecting on her blades of grass that a young man drew from his womans lips. She cries for her branch the teenage kids snapped for fun. She's crying - Mother Nature - is crying, because man - nature takes her place. In this concrete urban forest...all I hear are sirens and I close my paper eyes; i try to reach out and steal the tear off of - Mother Nature's - face. All I hear are sirens and im saddened, man-nature takes her place.
Copyright © amy epiphany tunks | Year Posted 2012
She is the mother of every poor people, injured people, ordinary people...
Always we remember the great news
'Mother Teresa will get the Nobel Peace Prize.'
It was one of the best moment in our life...
She lived in our city Kolkata (Calcutta) .
She ate our Bengali foods.
She loved us so much...
One day, I was twelve years old
I met her at Mother House along with my parents.
I looked at her heavenly eyes.
I touched her sacred feet and hands.
I heard her divine speeches.
I love her innocent smile.
I told her only the sentences,
'You are the mother of the world,
Mother of my parents.
So you are my grandmother.'
My father hesitated. My mother was silent.
Mother Teresa said to me with smile,
'GOD BLESS YOU MY SON'
Today my eyes are full of tears
Mother, I miss you.
I love you so much....
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
(Mother Teresa founded the Missionaries of Charity, a Roman Catholic religious congregation, which in 2012 consisted of over 4,500 sisters and is active in 133 countries. They run hospices and homes for people with HIV/AIDS, leprosy and tuberculosis; soup kitchens; dispensaries and mobile clinics; children's and family counselling programmes; orphanages; and schools. Members of the institute must adhere to the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, and the fourth vow, to give "wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor".
Mother Teresa was the recipient of numerous honours including the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize. In 2003, she was beatified as "Blessed Teresa of Calcutta". A second miracle credited to her intercession is required before she can be recognised as a saint by the Catholic Church.)
Copyright © Sandip Goswami | Year Posted 2014
A heart that cries more than me
in my pain.
Whose congenial and benign teachings
make me sane.
A warm touch that dispels from me
the gales of worry.
Whose proximity ensures me that I'm
protected by her under furry.
A helping hand that always hold me
whenever I'm about to lose.
& my first teacher who makes me to
distinguish between donts' and dos'.
A voice and nothing more, an Angel
who is entirely mine just after my birth.
And she is none other but 'My Mother',
The God on Earth.
Although to define her in words is
beyond my skill.
Nevertheless I can say that her pace in
my life, none can fill.
She is the one who needs not a single
word of me to understand.
In my devastation, she is always there
to provide effusively her hand.
In the weariness of my life, with her,
I may lose to be in link.
But she ever remembers me whenever I
breathe or my eyes blink.
I can say that in search of heaven,
I needn't to go anywhere.
I would like to put my head in my
mother's lap, as its only there..
Copyright © Hina Saxena | Year Posted 2014
We have been together
treasured joy now for many years
we trust each other with our
emotions, with affection, tears,
Any day when you are sick or hurting
I feel your pain - significant other,
when eighter-one needs attention
we help one another...
These mutual friendly feelings
for assistance, approval, support
form our tight bonds,
usually never broken
Sharing visions, time together
we respect each other,
regardless of shortcomings
I know you, "I love you anyway"
Copyright © Perry Campanella | Year Posted 2013
I don't know why
I am writing
I don't know what
will come out of it
I don't know how
this has happened
I feel like it's me
my good luck
Mother nature begged
to dictate my now
during that long walk
towards my new path
the sun burned
asked me to start having
a healthy attitude
towards life and death
Mother nature urged me
life was good to you
you are not the owner here
you are just passing
She transmitted in her own way
telling me we all live with
once in a while
there are reasons to life
just add a meaning to it
make it real enjoyable
visible full of life
She projected her light under
where are you when you're thinking
a lifetime has gone by in a glimpse
a person can't live two lives
tonight pick up an option
everything you will do has to be
worth living for
It's your decision
having faith without hope
you will not live
This is real what's next in your life
whatever it might be
you would always want
that next minute
make it count don't see weakness
I will try
Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2014
Modest swimsuits, bathing boxes
White-blue flesh ice cold
Scratchy towels, sandy sandwiches
Pots of tea being sold
Foxford blankets, picnic baskets –
A donkey ride on the strand
Flowery summer frocks, mischief brimming
A practical joke being planned
Hesitant breast strokes – high pitched laughter
Terror, delight ‘the cold’! -
Sunburn, windburn, scalded skin –
‘You’ll remember this when you are old’
Your mother is calling ‘the picnic is ready’
‘I’ll be there in a minute’, you say.
As you dive down again under –
The sea bed to plunder -
‘There is treasure down there, Mam’ you say!’
Landladies’ rules, pubs with high stools
‘– A large bottle, sir, if you please -
And may be a chaser?’ ‘You are a disgrace, sir -
The night will blow away with the breeze’.
A day at the races, smiles on mens’ faces,
Jingles in pockets, dinner in ‘Rocketts’ -
A beer and a fag, a joke and a drag –
‘This is grand, Sir!’
Which horse do you fancy – I think Mary Nancy
Called after his missus – and just as delicious
‘A winner for sure, sir
And what are you bettin’? Think of what you’ll be gettin’
When you win on the jackpot –
It is certain, sir!’
Sea-side rock plastic,
Coloured windmills fantastic
Naughty postcards to be hidden
– Their content forbidden,
By your mother –
The day’s nearly over –
You are tired – you’ll recover
For a night at the amusements – you have one and twopence
Clean clothes, polished shoes and a song.
Copyright © Liz Walsh | Year Posted 2010
Have you ever imagined the world we live without women?
It is like a lung without some oxygen, agonizing and inevitably dead,
A face never with a smile, boring and unfriendly.
A cup of tea without some grains of sugar, bitter and foul,
A pool without some water, dry and empty,
A good ride on a bad untilled road, rough and uninteresting,
The earth without some drops of rain, an inescapable famine,
But how come with the great number of women on planet earth?
We still live to cry as a reggae legend sang “no woman no cry”,
It is because they permit evil as much as they permit good,
Gullible and instrumental in the hand of the wicked ones,
Ugly and nice, beautiful and dangerous,
Cunning like serpents, deceitful like chameleon,
Holy but liars, having a form of godliness but highly ungodly,
Lovely like little puppies, sweet like bees honey,
Women, an invincible force in our our world today.
Copyright © Joshua Akinwande | Year Posted 2011
We sing a song to our Mother's soul who has passed and gone
she sings back as an angel from beyond and drops a tear
as we sleep so we won't wake and weep
On earth she gave us birth and strength to shine in this universe
and to remember family comes first for even in death
we have rebirth and a life of worth
So, we sing a song to our Mother's soul who has passed and gone
we will remain strong and will carry on for this beautiful angel
from beyond who has bygone for our mom.
T Reams 2/10/2015 to my sweet sister Jenny in memory of our mother Barbara
Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015
The strength of a woman
Is not in her tongue
Or the length of her hair
Or the songs she has sung
Control is not found
In the clothing she wears
Or seduction she offers
Or the child that she bears
Her honor and glory
Comes not from what shows
Except her reliance
On God that she knows
For God gives her power
Beyond height and length
And makes her much stronger
To display her strength
It’s there deep within her
And flows through her being
Revealing a boldness
And strength we are seeing
For man cannot crush
All the things she can do
For she is a woman
And warrior too
Copyright © gregory boyer | Year Posted 2014
I love you with all my heart we will never be worlds apart
If by chance you went away
Please just trust in what i say
Your in my heart each and everyday
My love for you will always stay and it will never sway
Even if time stood still my love for you never will
You are my hero I must admit and that I will not forget
You held my hand when I was in pain and it was not in vein
I could not ask for more
Your the reason I was born...
Copyright © Tiffany Flowers | Year Posted 2013
We had a steel-coiled fence
that kept us apart; kept in purity,
spoke out in purity.
We played Barbies in a tree that
bordered each side, not knowing
it had a
Our Barbie world was created;
dresses hung on branches
little mirrors for wee doll hands;
leaves assigned our closets.
I gibbered and you jabbered, and
the worst thing happened, I learnt
English, but what happened to your
Language traveled through the holes
of our steel-coiled fence.
Copyright © Gisele Vincent-Page | Year Posted 2011
Beautiful as they are, so is their laughter and smiles
Echoing noise of melody throughout the open sky,
Touching the hearts of parents everywhere, eradicating despair
The children laughter often makes your day,
In spite of the hard work you put in today
It’s a delight to observe their faces as their laughter fills the air
Bringing rays of sunshine even on a cloudy day
Laughter of gladness, laughter of joy naturally flows from within
Never a dull moment and is harmonious to the ear
A Child’s laughter brings a mother’s joy any time anywhere.
Often changing the mood when there is sadness in the air
The beauty of the children laughter tell of
The happiness of their heart
With sparkles in their eyes and a laughter that cannot be denied
Is a tribute to a mothers’ ear
Little children everywhere, filled this earth with pleasant cheer
Copyright © Pauline White | Year Posted 2015
In the warmth of a massive cozy bed, I lie
Enjoying the freshness of a washed sheet
Lost in a make believe world
Lovely enough, I can’t wake
But while in the deep of my fantasies
I am suddenly awakened by my little one’s silent echo!!!
Her turns and sucks,
Her little hand-full tummy, rumbling
Yet again, wet diaper.
Oh no!!! Why now?
Sleep never felt so lovely
But I just can’t ignore this growl
Am I not her supper-mom?
Sleep-walking; I grab some warm milk and fresh diaper
For who came from me, same flesh and blood!!!
Copyright © chocho diva | Year Posted 2012
"Love me when I least deserve it, because that's when I really need it"
All the while I went my way
Hot hostility halt my been gay
Anger defiled my melodious voice
Frightened love, fled far from been mine
Each dawn grew my melancholy phase
Still you cared, it made me amazed
Each of thy smiles slightly faded my repugnant scowl
It a little, shamed by burning anger
My heart pictured if thy world was true
I began to believe for I was always at rest with you
Many a time I would have gone back
But amidst my distressing scowl,
Mama smiled like my scowl was a charming smile
Felicitations of envy I'd give to men
But you were ever gentle and patient
An insolent child is not thrown away, I'd
Hear her say
Just before hate could ruined me
You gave me reason to believe love is true
Slow ridding years mended my heart
Your incessant warmth refined me
Your warm embrace taught me the
Way of love; comforting, reassuring
Ever patient and forgiving
You showed me the beauty of love
Now the world is a mirror
When I smile they smile bright too
You are the constant sky in my life
I love you mama
For the contest “The Right Time” written by Ingibo Benson
Fourth July 2011
Copyright © Ingibo Benson | Year Posted 2011
Americans say that India is the largest democratic country .
Asians say that India is the country of spiritualism .
Australians say that India is the country of huge crowd .
Africans say that India is the country of great M . K . Gandhi .
Europeans say that India is the country of philosophy .
Politicians say that India is our strategic partner .
Economists say that India is one of the best place for investment .
Communists say that India is the perfect soil for communism .
Capitalists say that India is the market of products .
Historians say that India is the center of history .
Poets say that India is the country of Rabindranath Tagore and lovers
Everybody says many many sentences about India !
Although soul of India says to her people
"You are citizens of India but residents in the world .
And the World is your original mother land ."
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
Copyright © Sandip Goswami | Year Posted 2014
5 Feet 5
Witnessing the untold wisdom in your eyes
Protector by nature
Shielding your offspring with
Flawless skin glowing as the Indian sun
Bearing the scars
Emerging as a phoenix
Transforming into your
A new day given by
Walk no Run
In the anointing
Copyright © Tanya Jenkins | Year Posted 2010
Oh Great Woman of all Nature
Mother of our Divinely blessed, sacred Earth
Your beauty has kissed my lips
with the splendor of your clear, sapphire skies
The golden, moon bathed Sands
that are gently caressed
by your crystal blue clear flowing rivers
Your gentle rain that ascends from the Heavens above
to delicately soothe and blend
with tears that flow from the broken hearted
Your moist, emerald green hills
filled with enchanting, lovely flowers
of every elegant shade and hue
I have beheld the splendid beauty…
of your green weeping willow's gracious bows and limbs
of iridescent greens and golds
that whisper gently in your swaying, languid winds
I have witnessed golden eagles fly so gracious and free
in your pictorial, periwinkle blue skies
I've feasted my eyes on the sublime splendor
of your enchanting, golden harvest moon
as its elegant beauty paints a rose, gold, splendid image
so deep within my mind
All your violet-blue endless horizons
Your smoky, gray mountains so grand
in the rose blue cool light of dawn
Your chattering bird songs in skies of azure blue
The fragrant scent of amber gold pinecones
in the sparkle of the crystal clear early morning dew
I pay Ode’ to you Great Mother Nature
for every golden ray of sun that warmed my skin
that hangs brilliant and dazzling...
in your glorious skies of cerulean blue
Copyright © anne p. murray | Year Posted 2012
Dedicated to my mother who, in my youth, I did not fully understand..
I wish my callings be sweet to thee;
Abate not Oh lady the tenderness I'd missed
Prolong thy tenderness and never a dreary;
Your genteel should I suck from thy breast.
From being a toddler remember I;
That not so often I heard thy lullaby.
And thence I asked Oh whence I came?
I sought for answer; I didn't think ‘twas fine.
Then years rolled by I attended school;
Why art thou the source of my ridicule?
The boys would laugh by what thou hinted;
That I didn't fit a sport; I couldn't hit a target.
It confused me much – yeah it hurt me badly
The way thou saw me was never comely.
Mama! Oh mama! I beseech thee
Tell me the truth in anyway thou tell me
Thou needest not to be subtle in telling the truth
Let it be that I can have peace in my youth.
The future is waiting and thither I goest
Wish me luck; I don't want to be the lowest.
Oh Mama, Willful as thou art, bestow in me some courage
That even in my lowliness, I can live my life the fullest…
Date & Time of Writing:
October 4, 1988
12:03am - 10:10am
Copyright © Jecon B. Nadela | Year Posted 2013
Dropped out of whap five, hyperdrive is fried and so am I. Cruised through
a seven eleven, picked up some goodies for me mates. Bottle of Jack Daniels
Black for me British mate Paul Beadnall, lovely coconuts for me Aussie
mate Don Johnson nutter on planet forty two. Hit the atmoshpere of
planet forty two, things gettin hot my fantasy ship is falling apart. I'm in trouble
need a rescue before my goose is cooked and I become cosmic dust.
Sent out an SOS ...---... on all frequencies to me mates. This is old Jack
cobber, I'm in trouble pick me up please on the double. All systems off line, I
was about to panic, when they came into view. Don's trusty old Sunderland
so thrilled to see. Beamed me on board, and I said thank ya me maties!
Handed Paul his bottle of black Jack, and Don his lovely coconuts.
I said pour me a stiff one Paul to calm me nerves please. I said Don
if you don't mind, keep your Coconuts in your pants please. I was just relaxin
when a giant Mother ship from planet forty two popped into view
Don said that thar be a big mother nutter old cobber Jack, and me
and Paul agreed. Don said bring er around Paul, We're gonna crack this
mother nutter. I looked at him with panic written on my face, he said no
worries mate. I've made some modifications you'll see they're great. He popped
up a puter screen, had a red and blue button. He pushed the the red one
and the puter said launching all torpedos brace yourselves please. Torpedos
lit up the inky dark space, Don chuckled and said take that you alien
buggers. His aim was true, huge flash mother ship cracked like a rotten nutter.
Paul laughed and said switch to auto pilot to his purter, let's drink a toast to
victory maties,we should be back to the Soup in a light year or two.
Copyright © Jack Ross jr. | Year Posted 2011
FOR A SWEET SABLE SAINTLY MOTHER
Wearing her crown of pearly white hair,
Her sunken orbs glowed with a regal glare.
Her ebony hued, wrinkle hands, strong as stone
Are monuments of the burdening labor she had owned.
As her broken body has known sorrow and pain,
It remains a mystery how she has managed to remain sane.
Though her life has known despair and great depravity,
She’s never succumbed to the indignities of social gravity.
Indeed, “life for her has been no crystal stair”,
Yet, for us, she has always been there with loving care.
She’s the sturdy black bridge which we’ve crossed over on;
To travel along the jubilee road towards our liberation.
Indeed, this raven skin queen reins supreme like no other:
Praise God for the blessing me with this sweet sable saintly mother.
Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015
Let`s go black in time
Come with me black to history
Black to the mother land
Where we rightfully belong
Black in time before the Europeans
Tried to whitewash our
Skins and minds
Black to the kingdom and ancestry
Black, way black before slavery
Black am I
Not just the color of my skin
The pupil of my eyes or the hair on my head
But black at heart, black in my thinking
And black in my thoughts
Black in time
Black my story, every sentence, every line
Black every rhythm and every rhyme
Black the days on their slave ships
Heading across the ocean lines
Black the shackles and the chains
Black the whips that cut our veins
Black the blood that stained the lands
Black the heart of every whiteman
Black the husbands and the wives
Black the circumstances which changed
Black the mother and the father
Black the separation from each other
Black, black, black, black
Black the struggles and the fights
Black the system which took away
Black the midnights we tried to make
Black the rope on the tree that hung the ones
Who wished to be free
Black, black, black, black
Let`s go black and turn the world around
Let`s take black our civilization
Every continent and every nation
Let`s take black the white man`s dominion
Let`s take black our rightful rulership
No more subjection under
The whiteman`s dictatorship
Let`s black out the pages
of the white man`s days
And attribute the praises
to the black liberal race
Black my eyes and the things they see
Black the visions of those who preceded me
Black Marcus, Selassie and Mandela
Black Obama and the Christ
Black the life I live because of their sacrifice
Copyright © Leon Pryce | Year Posted 2013
Seven years I’ve been waiting for
A Christmas with you I wish for
Just like the other years that passed by
My wish for Christmas never gone by
A thought bothered my mind
How do you feel fine?
How do I feel fine?
If it breaks your soul it breaks mine.
Everything you have to sacrifice
A tear drops in your eyes
I wish I could make it dry
But I too can’t stop myself to cry
I hope he will grant my wish
If not now, maybe next year
I would still be waiting here
The same wish that I wished.
Copyright © jaycel frances tamayao | Year Posted 2013
She felt it on her shoulders
When her husband lost his sight
Many school fees to pay
Much food to feed children
She was just an apprentice nurse
Working at the government hospital
In Harper city, Maryland county
She woke up very early
Daily walk to her place of work
She retire at night in her small shop
She makes sure her children studied
But her tears were invisible
She couldn’t afford receiving her salary
The storms of school fees and book swallow it
She work all through her years
Preparing her children for brighter future
The dark hand of civil war surface
When parents ran without their children
Children without their parents
Husbands without their wives
And wives without their husband
But she kept her family
In the midst of terror and tension
When human bodies, human skull,
Human bones lied along the roadside
She escapes with her husband into exile
She is a real mother
Who kept her vow deep within her heart
As a treasure that couldn’t be stolen
Copyright © Olivia Nimley | Year Posted 2013
You are the fresh spring air,
You are the warm sun upon my hair.
You are the cool morning dew,
You are the summer skies so blue.
You are the strong ocean breeze,
You are the gentle falling leaves.
You are the light that brightens the night,
You are the mountains filled with might.
You are the ever so changing snowflakes,
You are all that is good, which God makes.
You are my soul, and every heartbeat,
You are the one who makes me complete.
You are, my child.
Copyright © Kelli Settle | Year Posted 2016
I possess an image
I am the woman
The woman who is
In absolute possession
Of the courage
As brave as a warriors staff
The woman who knows her rights
And fights for it
I am the woman
With the “man”
I possess a heart
I am the woman
The woman with
An inner child
With an overflowing joy
With no worries bigger
The woman whose gleeing spirit
Brings hope to all
I am the woman
With the “womb”
I possess an art
I am the woman
The woman herself
All pieces of earth
And soothing the broken
The woman whose arms
Wraps those she loves
I am the woman
©Naa Takia, All Rights Reserved 2012
Copyright © Victoria Nunoo | Year Posted 2012
THE GENEROUS MOTHER EARTH
How generous you are the mother Earth
It is from thee that man was made
You have made man un-thirsty
And your benevolent in giving out of nothing is inexplicable
You feed the worthy and the unworthy
We are till forever indebted to you
To return what thy have taken from thee!
The heaven can never be ungrateful
For the inexplicable water supply
That has made the heaven glamour
That has made the birds of the air gorgeous and flamboyant
They can never fail to pay thee, the last tribute
As to return the expedients taken from thee!
You have continued to bring out valuables
That prompted the regalia of men
That necessitated the pride of plants and flamboyant flowers
That yielded the live of insects and man
They wouldn’t hesitate to vomit explicitly what they have savored
To the generous mother Earth!
Copyright © Nnachetam Stanislaus | Year Posted 2013
O’ the womb that brought me forth
Her breast milk she did not deny
The love she shower over my life
Her care that sharpens my hope
O’ the first name I call mama
Your prayer you offer for me
Your time you put into my success
Your sacrifices you made to impact me
O’ the most wonderful woman in my world
Words cannot described your kind
The concrete foundation you build in me
Yes my mother is a star in my sky
Copyright © Olivia Nimley | Year Posted 2013
I saw you Mom!
I have passed through the thin silvery mist.
Scattering the letters, like feathers.
Watched them fly over hills ,and then disappeared.
Ah _ how young I was in the dream!
Too young to know,
how death would take your smile like wings,
How would made of it strange heavenly birds,
In strange unearthly place,
Where nothing withholds the sun! But fog.
Copyright © Fatima Nusairat | Year Posted 2014