Derek Fitzgerald Poet Acrostic

She

She the 1 who faught and presented me with life
                                a mother , a sister , and my fathers wife
                             She who caresses all our cuts and bruises
                        when were down and in need she never refuses
                          She gives her love without need to be asked
                     with her loved ones her colors are nailed to the mast
                        Shes our cleaner our cook our source of effection
                  and can see through our hearts with alarming perseption
                       Shes missed and rememberd by all those she new
                         and in heaven i know theres a place just for you

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Beata Agustin July 23, 2025 at 5:45 AM Thanks for sharing this... exposing your thoughts through your unique poetic style. Meanwhile, I greet you with the love of the Lord, expressed by John 3:16 of the Bible, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Be blessed.

Dana Smith October 22, 2011 at 6:06 PM You have a lot of talent, I'm looking forward to reading more of your work.. feel free to let me know when you have another poem up.. welcome to PS. Take care

Debbie Duncan October 6, 2011 at 10:37 PM I love your words,, She is a special mom indeed ;} blessings to you !

Carol Sunshine Brown October 3, 2011 at 10:38 AM A warm welcome to PoetrySoup I offer to you this morning Derek. I wish for you the best in your writing endeavors whatever they may be. May you find inspiration by reading some of the poetry written here by other poets. Read and comment on their's and they will return in kind. May the sun shine on you that you might find great joy in your life. Love and blessing always, Carol

John Smith October 2, 2011 at 10:25 PM Losing mom is the hardest; I just lost mine. Your poem evokes your pain.