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Best Mom Poems

Below are the all-time best Mom poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of mom poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Mom Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Mom poems are below this new poems list.

For My Mom, ECC by Cheyney, Jolene
Mom, in the Electronic Age by Roberts, Francine
Mom Wouldn't Have a Tomorrow by johnson, randy
Sorry Mom by NEGI, KISHAN
Mom and my true God by Bohto, Holly
A Tribute to my Mom-in-law by Uppuleti, Aruna
my mom by OLIVERA, WANDA Y.
Happy Birthday, Mom - Part IV: Precious As A Flower by johnson, randy
Angel Mom by WEWEGE, GERT
My Mom, the racist by theKidster, SillyBilly

View all new Mom Poems

The Best Mom Poems

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Daddy, why did you go away?
Don't you know I wanted you to stay!

Daddy, when you left mom,
Don't you know you left me too?
Now all I do is cry and cry
--- I want to die!

Daddy, mommy say's it's better this way,
What does she know!
They're not enough band-aids to cover up the blues
Mom's kisses can't heal this kind of pain.

Daddy, I look around 
No one stands in your garage
Daddy, You took every tool
Except the hammer and sitting stool
Daddy, I still miss you 
--- I love you. 
Dear Daddy, I'm all grown up now
Haven't seen you since I was 10

Daddy, I sit on your favorite chair,
No longer do I miss the way you caressed my hair.
Daddy, I'm taking the old hammer and this BRAND NEW saw,
It's time to patch all the holes mom punched in the wall 
*The day you walked out on us*
Daddy, don't worry about the times I tripped and fell
Mom found someone to fix  the loose boards,
Got tired of scraping my knees 

Daddy, I finally realized I'm okay,
I agree with mom, it's better this way.

by- Not every dad is great (but step-dad YES!)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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A mother was born and dreamed of a beautiful life
A new journey had begun - but a hard path lay ahead
Demons seduced her beloved - leaving her alone
The land was foreign and dark clouds appeared above
Child in hand the mother reached an ambiguous cross road
Before setting foot upon the long way - her conscience enquired
"Are you sure this is the right path? It will be difficult, full of pain"
The mother smiled as she saw hope in her infant's eyes
A real mother would sacrifice her own happiness for a child
Storms came on dark days with thunder and lightning
but, she kept her child dry and secure
Winters came with cold days and masonic winds
but, she kept her child warm and protected
Sometimes she would not eat - but kept her child nourished
In secrecy, tears would fall - her son would only see a happy mask
There were days when life was burdensome and full of worry
and she shook in fear - defeating hazards and obstacles,
as she guided her son along the terrain of the highest mountain
When they reached the top her son reassured his mother
"Thank you mother - I would not have got here without you,
you can let go now. I think I will be OK from here"
His mother smiled with pride - her boy was now a man
When her son was at a loss - his mother would remind him
"Son you only learn from losing"
When her son lay dying - his mother gave him hope and taught him faith
"Son, you can't control what happens to you in life,
but you can control how you react to it"
With the love and prayers of his mother and the grace of God
he defeated the most evil disease and is even stronger
Life is full of trials and tests - being optimistic will help defeat hardship
Loving others will give them belief and a reason to live. 

Never underestimate the love of a mother who sacrifices so much,
but sometimes we do not realise how much.  My mother has taught me so much and is my hero.  I am thankful to my mother for always being there even on the darkest days.  For helping me through my battle with cancer and always inspiring me to be the best that I can be.  It is a true honour to be her son.

15 October 2015

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

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Our Christmas Eve Dinner

'Twas our Christmas Eve dinner; we all had sat down at the table to eat. Grandma couldn’t be found! We children were fussing; Dad rose to his feet. shouting, “Where are you, Ma? We’re ready to eat!” When from the next room we heard such a noise Jenny squealed, “Santa Claus must have brought toys!” We then heard a sound like a whimpering pup saying, “Help. I’ve fallen and cannot get up.” Grandpa jumped up and then rushed to the door that led to the bathroom. There on the floor lay our poor grandma, eyes widened in fear, looking like she’d got run over by reindeer! The dresser had fallen. It had her pinned down. Grandma was wildly flailing around. More swiftly than Rudolph, we did all we were able. We unpinned her. Then Mom yelled, “Back to the table!” Back to the dining room all we kids came As our mom started to call us by name. “Davy, Mel, Jenny, Angie, Marie. . . Get back here now. I’m counting to three!” Like animals not having eaten all day, stuck in a cage without getting their way, we sat at that table our bellies all growling, and Davy, the baby, by now was howling. And then finally what did appear? Dad with our grandpa and grandma so dear! Supported by both our grandpa and dad, Grandma was flushed and looking quite bad. She was dressed in a housecoat trimmed in white lace and a big purple bruise had now formed on her face. Mom pulled out a chair helping Grandma to sit, and then our dad bellowed, “OK, have at it!” Our mouths how they watered to see the large ham. “And that isn’t all,” said Mom, “I made lamb!” Her small pretty mouth was turned up in a grin, “The food’s getting cold now. Children, dig in.” Our dad how he laughed as he poured lots of gravy onto his potatoes and kidded with Davy. And Grandma sat smiling despite her great fall while Grandpa gulped spiked nog, not talking at all. With eyes that seemed bigger than my own belly, I dished out big spoonfuls of cranberry jelly. Mom winked and I knew I had nothing to dread. Her pleasure was in us all being well fed. I went straight to work at stuffing my face when suddenly Mom said, “We didn’t say grace!” We closed our eyes listening to our dad’s prayer. I peeked but was met by my mom’s warning stare! Dad finished the prayer with a hearty Amen. Then we were all grabbing Mom’s fixings again. When the food had all vanished and our stomachs hurt, we heard Dad exclaim, “So what’s for dessert?” For the Children's Christmas or Holiday Tale - Poetry Contest of Carol Eastman

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

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Time Machine

Ride with me on my time machine to a different time and place
Return with me and let me see if I can put a smile upon your face
To the days of AM radio and the TV was black and white
To lying in a grassy field and counting stars at night
Popcorn and soda in the balcony at a Saturday matinee
Parades led by the High School Band on Decoration Day
Dressing up and going door to door on the night of Halloween
Cigarettes rolled in your shirt, pretending to be James Dean
Pep rallies before the football games, everybody stand and cheer
Going in the woods with your friends at night, sharing a quart of beer
That feeling inside, turning red, when she smiled at you at the dance
Wanting to kiss her goodnight, but you were afraid to take a chance
Playing chase tag at night in the neighborhood, hiding behind a tree
Holding hands with your first steady, so all your friends could see
Medicine Show at the end of town in a giant canvas tent
Saving pennies for a rainy day, fasting on candy for Lent
Going for a Sunday ride with Mom and Dad in the family car
Playing in the yard at night, putting lightning bugs in a jar
Drag racing on that long stretch of road, Chevy was hard to beat
Stealing peaches from a neighbor’s tree, always seemed so sweet
Riding bikes all over town, never knowing the meaning of fear
Identifying cars by their tail lights, make and model and year
News and Stooges at the theatre before the movie starts
Valentine’s day I love you written on tiny candy hearts
Easter bonnets and picking flowers for Mom on Mother’s Day
Opening day at the community pool the last weekend in May
Sock hop in the auditorium, collar up, trying to play it cool
Meeting friends at the usual place, everyday after school
Six for a quarter on the juke box, music that would move your soul
Return with me now to those glory days and the birth of rock and roll.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2009

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 This one is totally fictional.

Don't cry little guy just 'cause you're moving away
Your daddy's got a brand new job out in Santa Fe
He's trying to make a better life for your mom and you
So, how about holding back those tears
Yes, I'm crying too
So I said goodbye to Bobby like I knew I had to do
But Some things that I told him
Weren't exactly true
I wish I could have told him to stay
If that's where he'd really like to be
I wish I could have told him the truth
About his mom and me
So, I said goodbye
And tried not to cry
And told him to have fun
I wish I could have said to him
Bobby, you're my only son.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2007

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He was just a child who wandered off
Lost and alone trying to find his way
Starting to get dark and didn't know where he was
He cried for his mom and began to pray
Being in the woods with no sense of direction
Too dark to see and afraid to run
A stranger appeared out of the darkness
And said don't be afraid, I'll help you, son
Mom had been praying for her lost little boy
Neighbors helped search with the police all around
On the third day, sitting there in a clearing
He was no longer missing, now he was found
Mom hugged her son and started to cry
The little boy said Mom I'll be alright
Where is the stranger that helped me out
He stayed with me through each dark night
He told me when he was a little boy
That once he had gotten lost too
His mom and Dad were very upset
Because they didn't know what to do
Then the little boy shouted, Hey Mom, that's him
I would know him anywhere
When I was lost and so afraid
He came to me and was always there
Look at him Mom, I feel so sad
I don't know what to say
Tell me Mom, what did He do wrong
Why did they hang Him on the cross that way?

        If we truly believe, He will always be there when we need Him most.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2008

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My Time To Shine

Running barefoot through the open field
No worries, enjoying what the day will yield
Free spirit, given free reign to roam the town
Sun up to sun down, laughter all around

Dreading Mom's dinner bell, such a sad sound
Knowing the day was over and we had to settle down
Mom was a special lady, such compassion and care
Whenever something was wrong, she was always there

She was a mother, doctor, taxi, chef, she deserves applause
Looking back, I didn't realize how good it really was
Nurturing us from the time we were so were small
Just kids, wild and carefree, Mom took care of it all

The times have changed, we are off on our own
No longer able to do life's daily chores all alone
Mom needs nuturing as she is now on the decline
Time to give a helping hand, time to shine

Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

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A Father/Son Zoo Trip

“Why do the Rams behave violently?”
The little boy queried of his father.
“They need all their might to fight the Jaguars,
But Jags are fast, don’t know why they bother.”

“And why do Broncos try to beat up on Colts?
Wouldn’t this be much like you hitting me?”
The unhappy father just shook his head 
“It’s competition, son, you just don’t see.”

“Daddy, this is not what I hoped to find
At a zoo like other children describe.”
“The football zoo is better than others
Some animals here throw games for a bribe.”

“But you told Mom we would see a real zoo,”
The youngster groaned, sadly eying the field.”
“Please just tell Mom you saw animals play
If she learns where we went, my fate is sealed.”

* For Barbara Gorelick's "Zoo" competition

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

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The Mirror Of Time

I hold three magic rocks, in my hand. Rolling them over and over and over. Leaving this 
reality behind, far behind I stepped into the magic mirror and there I was back in 1959.  It 
was the same month, November.  I looked around and it was the same as I remember it had 
been then.  Mom looked so young and beautiful and said, "The school bus will be here in a 
few minutes."  I looked at the calendar and saw that it was November 25th, the day before 
Thanksgiving.  I said, "But mom, I haven't been in school in forty years."  I got this strange 
look from her but she didn't say anything.  Walking toward the door I caught a reflection of 
myself in the hall mirror.  I was so young.  My hand immediately went to my face and I 
stopped and stared at myself for a few minutes. I said, "Mom, can I stay home and be with 
you today?"  Again I got that strange look from her, then she smiled and said, "Sure, it's 
your last day before Thanksgiving anyway, why not?"  She and I sit down and talked for 
hours.  Then I said, "Do you mind if we go next door and visit with Maw Maw and Paw Paw?  
I haven't seen them in so long and I've missed them terribly!"  Again another strange look 
from mom. Next door I saw Maw Maw and Paw Paw as they had been in 1959.  I wept and 
they all looked at me so strangely.  I hugged them and kissed them all and we talked for 
hours.  Dad finally came home from work and I ran and hugged him so hard. "Dad why did 
you have to leave us in June?"  Again I got strange looks from everyone.  My tears were 
falling.  I saw Aunt Frances and Uncle Bill who lived beside Maw Maw and Paw Paw. "I've 
missed you both for so long." Strange looks again!  They didn't understand because to them, 
it was just another day in 1959.  The day grew late and I knew my time was soon ending.  I 
got near the magic mirror and mom and dad were standing there so young and healthy. I 
said, "Mom I'll see you on the other side of the mirror, but dad, I'll see you another time, 
another place."  They didn't understand.  I stepped back through and my reflection was as it 
had been before.  Mom was sitting in her chair at age 84.  I said, "Mom, do you remember 
the day before Thanksgiving, 1959, when I stayed home from school and we spent the day 
together?"  She said, "Yes, it was so strange that you could never remember anything about 
it.  It was as though you had amnesia.

Copyright © Marty Owens | Year Posted 2009

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Thanksgiving from Three Perspectives

A Child's Thanksgiving Prayer 

Lord, I thank thee as I sit to eat,
For mashed potatoes that I helped to make.
And thanks, dear Lord, we're having something sweet.
Besides the beets and peas, there's pies and cake!

I thank thee for the sweet potatoes too
‘Cause Mom put tiny marshmallows on top.
They melted into white and taste goo;
Bless Mom, this  time her cooking didn't flop!

And thanks, dear Lord, my cousins came today.
I only get to see them once a year.
It snowed, and so we're going out to play.
Only my aunt Ruthie isn't here.

I'm glad she caught a cold. Forgive me, Lord.
It's just she talks so much we kids get bored.

A Dad's Thanksgiving Prayer 

Thanks, Lord, for this day of our Thanksgiving.
I've got a nice long weekend thanks to thee,
Starting with what I call really living-
Football on TV for me to see.

I'm thankful for this turkey on the table,
And for my wife, who bought it at the store
Even though she had to read the label
On how to cook the thing and even more . . .

Because this was her first time hosting dinner,
There was a lot my poor wife had to learn.
But the pumpkin pie turned out to be a winner,
And the gravy(which I love), she didn't burn!

And praise to thee, my kid is not as bad
As those that my wife's sister Annie had.

A Mom's Thanksgiving Prayer 

I thank thee, Lord, for this Thanksgiving Day,
For helping hands to clear away this mess;
For snow to tempt the kids outside to play;
For all my family and the meal's success.

I haven't seen my sisters in a while.
Though Ruthie's gone, I'm glad we all can chat.
The men are in the den.  Each wears a smile.
They're chugging Buds and happy getting fat.

I'm thankful too that Mom and Dad are here.
They're taking all the kids to see a show
Tomorrow while the men are drinking beer.
I hope nobody gets into a row!

Bless Mom and Dad.  The kids will have them hopping
(Especially Annie's kids) while we're out shopping!

For PD's "Gobble, Gobble, Gobble.. any food, thanksgiving
 or turkey poem CONTEST.. Poetry Contest"

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

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To Mom

My dearest mom, forty and five years gone,
although to me, it seems like yesterday.
You were too young to leave this earth at dawn
that sad, regretful fall September day.

I miss your smile and gentle way you cared
for me and precious grandkids, now all grown;
and how you would have taught and sweetly shared
your love and talents that so brightly shone.

I feel your presence more than I can say
and know somehow your spirit lives in me.
If only life had granted us our way...
one hundred years, since winter past, you'd be.

Dear mom, please know that not a day goes by,
I wish we'd had more time before goodbye.

Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~
Contest: Sonnet #3
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Judged: 09/10/2016

~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: To Mom
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Judged: June 4, 2016

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016

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Abortion (Another Life Gone)

There you are being conceived in your mother's womb. 
Before you know it you will be born in this world 
real soon. 

As you develop; you start to move around. You take in 
your first food as your mom gobbles it down. 

Your ears start to develop; behold now you can hear! 
You start to move around as the sounds you hear are 

You look around to only darkness. So you yawn and fall 
asleep. Look at those precious toes that are taking 
shape on your little feet! 

You hear your mother talking and you react to her voice. 
You start to kick. You start to coo. It seems to make 
you rejoice. 

I can hear the sound of your heart beat, and at hearing 
it I fall in love. I take a moment to see what is now 
going on in heaven above. 

Yah smiles down upon you as a precious baby is starting 
to take shape. Everything seems good so far, but hold up 

A pain hits you hard. You're wondering what's the 
commotion. You don't even know it, but your mom 
is now having an abortion. 

You don't deserve this. You're a precious baby. To be 
born is the Father's will. But you don't even know it, 
because now you are being killed. 

The pain is killing you...unbearable pain, but what can 
you do. It hurts too much to say this is what your mom 
thinks of you. 

Some think they know better, but your life began at 
conception. Why do some think otherwise? Is it because 
they fell victim to the devil's deception? 

Look at you torn to pieces. I'm crying at the sight 
of you. But it's a relief to your mother, she sees a 
different point of view. 

Another child dead. Another life gone. I can't control 
my emotion. A precious gift from above is now the victim 
of another abortion. 

Copyright © Jarid Miller | Year Posted 2010

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Hey mum, could we have roast chicken for dinner?
You know your roast potatoes really are a winner.
Mum, remember you promised to help with my homework later?
I have to hand it in tomorrow, your help would not be greater.

Hi mum, my doctors appointment today is around ten.
Your picking me up, just wanted to know when.
Hello mum, is it ok for you to look after the kids around noon?
I have to get my hair done, will drop them over soon.

Yes mum.  I texted you but you didn't reply.
Anyway did you get all those things I asked you to buy?
Well mum, the thing is, we've been really busy this week.
Could you have the kids overnight now?  We really need some sleep.

Hi mum, how are you today?  My car wont go!
Can you drive me to work?  I really need your help you know.
Mum, when you go to the post office can you grab a parcel for me?
I'd go there myself but I don't like to wait in line you see.

Mums are really angels of God, sent from up above.
To look after children and fill there lives with love.
Happy Mothers Day to all the mums out there.
You may sometimes feel unnoticed but dads are well aware.

Copyright © craig sharman | Year Posted 2016

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Pearls of Mother's Great Love

the pearls from your eyes are far more precious to me than any treasure your big sacrifice nothing more to compare with you’re my great hero I owe you my life mom, my heart melts when you cry your tears: pearls of love unconditional that’s the greatness of your love in you, I feel God mom, I’m so sorry sometimes, I make you lonely but you’re dear to me you bear all the pains pearls of great love on your cheeks every drop, I’ll kiss for I do believe you want only the best for me all your pray’rs and wish thank you so much mom those pearls of great mother’s love be kept in my heart you’re my only mom replaceable by no one comfort and best friend my ardent prayers may you live long in this world may God gives you strength March 24, 2013
Note: This poem was conceived both from the “Pearl” theme and one of my possible adorable picture themes of my latest contest, “Mother’s Love”- merged into one. It is also composed with the inspiration of all mothers in this world. You’re indeed the greatest heroes/heroines! I am so proud of you! I lovingly dedicate this poem to you dear mothers and friends! Big hugs to all of you! Of course, I include especially my loving/dearest mom who’s my greatest inspiration, refuge and best friend. This poem can also bring to us a message for this Easter Season as we remember Mother Mary who’d suffered much seeing her loving son Jesus Christ’s great sufferings on the cross at Mt. Calvary- a mother’s great love to her child indeed! HAPPY EASTER SEASON TO ALL! First Place Contest: Any Poem Goes Judged: 3/29/2013 Sponsor: My Greatest Poet and sis PD

Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2013

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Mother's Love

Mother’s Love (Sonnet)

Love begins at the time of conception
When a mother’s dear child grows in her womb.
Her life is changed to thoughts of protection.
Excitement and wonder of gender bloom.

This new little life will bring heightened joy.
A new baby is what dreams are made of.
It matters not if it’s a girl or boy,
Birth will bring happiness and so much love.

Teaching a sweet child as he or she grows
Is a most important tool used each day.
To teach how compassion and kindness flows,
As they emulate and do things our way.

A mother’s love, with every endeavor,
Is a gift to her children forever.

© 2014 Connie Marcum Wong

Happy Mother’s Day to every Mother and Step-Mother and Grand Mother and 
G. Grand Mother. Happy Belated Mother's Day to those of you in countries 
where you have already celebrated Mother's Day.

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014

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over and over agin

sometimes i talk to myself, 
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all. 
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister, 
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some unique
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it. 
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room, 
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy, 
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
is daddy raping her?
is she doing drugs?
not alot
is anyone beating her?
did anyone molest her? 
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse. 
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
hated herself
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses 
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat, 
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why? 
because daddy yelled 
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
smoking weed
doing nothing,
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
 her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
her mom,
her sister,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
 and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
and why? 
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...

Copyright © cassie hellberg | Year Posted 2013

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Night Angel

They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
The man.
The child.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
The terror
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A passer-by.
A doer of good deeds.
He stops.
He sees.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
He runs.
He hides.
The passer-by,
Believing he saved
A child
From a long, cold walk,
In reality
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.

Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013

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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 allotrope 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 prevalent from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths 
roles and qualities of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high pressured job 
versus the high pressured temperature
within the Earths mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love encaptures the magical luster
of those she’s birthed and nothing
stands inbetween this richest of cargo’s

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013

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A cinquain for Mothers Day

I must collect
In a jar on my desk
For all the tears my mum shed through
My storms

Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2013

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Once upon a weedy lawn
At Cedar Oaks Retirement Home
There sat my mother, weak and old
On an afghan knit to block the cold.

It was summer, but in mom's grey eyes
Was winter, when all around us dies.
I had tried to park her in the sun
Though I doubt she could notice what I'd done.

The disease had eaten up her brain
So little of her now remained
She didn't even know my name
I knew her not, much to my shame.

I looked around our patch of earth
Saw dandelions,and thought with mirth
Of how when small these grew quite wild
Mom would pick them as she smiled.

"Blow upon this cloud of seed,
"Then wish for what you really need."
I picked one now,and sadly blew
I asked for "mom" I never knew.

Suddenly a gust of wind
Took those seeds and made them spin
I felt my body start to rise
And change to match the seeds in size.

My mother gasped, & sucked us in
The seeds and me like some great wind
I saw her teeth, quite brown from smoking
And feared that I might cause her choking.

I swirled around, then down a slide
"Is this my mother I'm inside?!"
I landed in a battered lung
Where signs of cigarettes had clung.

And unsure of just where to go
I found a bridge, and crossed it slow.
Whence I entered a crucial part.
I found myself in momma's heart.

Where in a corner, dark and dusty
A young girl played, her laugh so lusty.
Her eyes weren't grey but tinged with blue
The plaited hair I also knew.

Her teeth so white, her face unlined
It was my mother, quite a find!
A joy, a freedom never shown
A lightness in her manner, tone.

And then a moment changed it all
I saw my grandma softly call
And whisper in my mother's ear
"Your dad has died. I'm sorry, dear."

Her wailing nearly deafened me
As the joy drained out like tides at sea.
Seeing all her pain and grief
I felt unwelcome, like a thief.

So I moved further in her heart
And came upon a teenage tart.
Awkwardly smoking, trying too hard
And too easily letting down her guard.

She fell for boys like rain from clouds
Her clothes too tight, her make-up loud.
Each night she staggered home alone
Hoping one would actually phone.

Then came the day that in that place
Could only lead to her disgrace.
I saw my mom in grandma's parlor
And my granny pacing as she hollered.

She pointed at mom's bulging middle
Screamed, then cried, then swore a little.
Pulled my mom up to her feet
In one swift move, threw her on the street.

My mother was 16, expecting a child
Homeless as well, she ought to be wild.
But instead I saw a great peace abide her
As she gently caressed me still forming inside her.

I saw in her eyes how love was the way
She changed from a girl to a woman that day.
Not love for a boy, a career, a degree
The love that transformed her was her love for ME!

Already feeling like my heart could break
And not sure of how much more I could take,
I still turned around to roam and explore
Both anxious and wary for what was in store.

This part of her heart was lit bright as the sun
My mother was wedding her intended one.
I remembered the dresses, beautifully white
I remembered the dancing that went on all night.

And then like a knife tearing straight through my chest
I knew what I'd see when I looked at the rest.
My mother so happy to be loved and give back
And me, growing older, and jealous of "Zach."

My stepdad who treated me like I was his own
Whose only crime was to enter our home.
I wanted my mother's attention on me
I was blinded by self-centered jealousy.

I knew that my mother would have to pick me
Especially if he behaved violently.
I found I was born with a flair for theatrics
And ran to my mom, often faking hysterics

Til finally my mother was left with no choice
But to tell him to leave, with a crack in her voice.
And suddenly I saw what I hadn't before
This part of mom's heart looked all broken and sore.

I couldn't continue with ease like before
The walls were too thick, advancing a chore
As if my mother had run out of room
For chances of love to grow or to bloom.

Then finally I hit the last, great, thick wall
Without any access beyond it at all
And almost afraid to look at the view.
I nonetheless watched, as I knew I must do.

It was a scene I knew all too well.
My teenage years, when I put mom through hell.
When I dumped her for boys who cared nothing for me
Choosing from her real love just to flee.

I left her alone in her house in the woods
I left her for losers who sold me their goods.
And then, too proud to admit I was wrong
I never went back, til her health was long gone.

And it was too late to say how much I cared
Too late to know it was something we shared.
Ready to go, I took one last long glance
And I saw something I never expected, by chance.

I saw my mother, like time lapse pics
Every night of her life, never missing a tick
Down on her knees, by the side of her bed
Praying for ME, who left her for dead.

She prayed for my health, she prayed I'd find love,
She prayed I'd be blessed by our Dad up above.
And even when she couldn't walk on her own.
My mom still put my needs o'er her own.

When the tears rolled free down my face,
I heard a huge sigh, and felt pulled from my place.
And in half a minute I was back on the lawn
Front of mom and Cedar Oaks Retirement Home.

My mother looked down on me, suddenly aware
And I saw for the first time her pain and her care.
And I noticed also an angel-like glow,
As she reached out her hand, and said, "Now you know."

I hugged her, held her, thanked her til night.
But the lucid look never came back in her sight.
She passed shortly after, to my great dismay
But I'll never forget the gifts given that day.

I learned never discount the love of your mother,
Never trade in that bond for the sake of a lover.
I learned there is power in a mom's loving prayers
And there is a God who hears and who cares.

I learned about faith, and love unconditional.
I learned about judging by standards traditional.
And I learned that from a little seed
Can come most everything we need!

Rhyme scheme: aabb

Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2015

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I See You

I see you
Do you see me peeking at you
From behind the rose bush?
Look at your lovely hair - a tousled mess
Those eyes, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight

I pull on your apron strings
Perchance a small smile
Oh no! Not a frown from you

I see you
Did you know that I was watching you
When you were busy making chocolate cake?
Just look at your sweet face
Flour on your nose and cheek

I squeeze your arm tightly
Mayhaps I get the spoon
Thank you for keeping me close

I see you
You don't know that I am looking at you
Wrapped up in your blanket
So cozy and warm - a quiet nod
A peaceful time for you

Can hardly wait for you to waken
I'll find a hiding place
So I can watch again

Copyright © Neva Romaine | Year Posted 2015

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Silently She Weeps

Every day she comes to visit her,
lifts the spoon to her thin lips.
Quietly she sleeps, silently she weeps.
Life arrested in its waning grip.

Every day she comes with hope
that something in her changes.
Silently she weeps, quietly she sleeps
The memories time rearranges.

Every day she comes and wonders,
will she wake today and speak?
Quietly she sleeps, silently she weeps
An imprisoned mind in body weak.

Every day she comes and touches
the woman like no other.
Silently she weeps, quietly she sleeps.
Maternal daughter, loving mother.


Copyright © James Nichols | Year Posted 2013

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a mothers love

on this special day
I doest say
that thy mother is of graceful sort
it hath been said she is devine
and I do holdeth this to be true
now dearest mother may I be so bold
to tell you the sun still shinest on one so old
as true as this be
you still grasp your faith 
like the roots of a tree
tis said you are wise
and this I have found true
the eye doeth grow deceived when it is drawn upon you 
as your thoughts become known 
only then your age is shown

Copyright © brandy wassam | Year Posted 2014

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Unwed Teen Mothers and Poverty

At internet dating sites secrets are hidden
On his roller coaster of lies, Pam had ridden
Though she agreed to meet Joe in a public park
The sun had already set; it was growing dark

No families or lovers were strolling around
When Jim came from behind and pushed Pam to the ground
Pam went home and was afraid to tell her parents
In four months there was a change in her appearance

Pam left home and started living on the streets
Turning away from every stranger she’d meet
‘Neath neon lights on a cardboard box she lay
Night after night, visiting soup kitchens by day

In her eighth month she found a home for pregnant teens
As her mom endured the torment of fearful dreams
Time neared and Pam called home crying, “Mom, I’ve done wrong!”
Grateful mom said, “Dear, I’d have been there all along"

Lifting Pam up from the grasp of dire poverty
Her parents welcomed the newborn to their family
If she hadn’t made that call, Pam would not have known
The comfort she’d receive in her parents’ fine home

* Entry for Gwendolen’s “Mom, I’m Pregnant” contest.

According to Douglas J. Besharov with the University of Maryland’s School of Public 
Policy, almost half of all families headed by women under age 18 have incomes 
below the poverty line. This is almost five times the poverty rate of two-parent 
families with children. 

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

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Moon bridge

The moon so bold seems cold
with a halo of midnight glow
I sit mesmerized as the night grows old.

I bleed still, even after all these years
and I wait again through the night
aching in the depths of my soul
that no other seems to know
the Loneliness that has become my companion.

In the darkness we wait and confide in the other
our deepest fears as memories fade
in and out each season of change
            the nostalgia tempers the wars of pain
this tempestuous foe of ours
         wails at the gates of midnight
howling the warble of humanities last grace.

How the comfort of minds and hearts
turn from light to deep dark in the face 
of eternities long time clock...

I ache with wanting, with need and passion
          it is a lie that time heals and wounds scar
each night is fresh like the first
                              when I faced realities shock.

Who can wait with me?
Who can hold this hound at bay?
Who can cherish what little love left in me
             and make the broken whole?

I ache to be loved again as the love that burns
and waits inside of me. 
Who can comfort this emptiness and fill the void
                that so many leavings have left?

Cherish and love to honor and protect
             but who can slay these demons that hold my heart in wrath?
Who will walk the sulfur clouds of hell to save my mind
     and deliver my world to the gates of heaven
      with life, not death bridging the distance of pain?

I sit and wait at the floor of the moon each night
waiting for that bridge to carry me yonder,
      this moon who hangs heavy and ripe with the yearning of my soul
with clouds aglow as if I could sweep them across a canvas
   with the brush held in your hand

I rage at her as I wait, but still I wait and weep
as Loneliness and I keep each others company
wishing the clouds of that great moon could truly create
a way to find the lost, a pathway to home, lit by the legacy our love.

Internal rhyme

Copyright © tara jennings | Year Posted 2013