Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now, alone bereft.
Grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left:
beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide;
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now alone, bereft.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside.
Beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide,
we conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief.
We conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passion now abides,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief,
ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
A five and a zero.
The big one creeping up,
Four three two one!
The countdown has begun
The race is on.
Big one creeping up so fast
I can hear the crack of the gun.
The big five... Oh
My mother didn't make it past.
I've been told that that's your big one,
Your own ceiling of glass;
That it creeps into your psyche,
Your parents to outlast.
I've been working for a while
To quit smoking before forty,
Success five years too late.
Five to go, the age that she was shortly.
Fifteen years six months eight days between us
Is as close as we ever got.
I don't need closer now,
I have a second shot;
I almost died with no idea what hit me,
A tragic but not sad how.
So to me it does occur
To slowly drown as your lungs fill
Is to fill a fate
I would much rather defer.
For On Turning Fifty Contest
Copyright © Maureen McGreavy | Year Posted 2017
Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.
Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.
Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.
Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.
Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?
Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.
The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.
The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.
Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.
Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.
Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.
Copyright © Kelly Zakerski | Year Posted 2009
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
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
Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2015
She was beauty, softness and she was grace.
She was loves maintained, ever giving face.
She was forgiveness in gesture soothing pace.
She trimmed my self-worth with maternal lace.
She was my one dependable home place.
Forever, I will gratefully bear her trace.
Now eight decades render her most changed.
No longer is joy or logic found in her campaign.
She clutches bitterness to allow its reign
as though bitter be her only lifetime gain.
She seems to fist, produce and seed blame.
She bruises the past with a grim, ugly stain.
How I miss and desire the woman I knew
whose wisdom aided me on and through.
I long for the laughter that would ensue
whenever we gathered alone, just us two.
I cry for the woman I always turned to
whenever I was joyous, confused or blue.
She is my beloved Mother and she is not.
My best attempts fail as her remedy sought.
I break in dark pieces seeing her so caught
in the bitter web of resentment’s sick plot.
I know not if karma fated her this distraught
or what spiritual truth may ease both our knots.
... CayCay Jennings
November 30, 2016
Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2016
Water rushing through the brook
leaving drowned out laughter
and a blooming lilypad
A mother with a weary look
as she wades through, feet clad
It’s her children she’s looking after
Hair threatens to fall in her distant eyes
She remembers when she hadn’t worried
stealing kisses under barnyard roofs
She begins to chastise
“Children put on your boots”
She raised the voice, and they scurried
But inside she was grinning ear to ear
Thinking of sweet-smelling memories
and grass-stained linen
As her children crawled near
She said, “Now listen,
I must share some stories…”
Copyright © Mckenzie Boyer | Year Posted 2015
Thank you – Zamreen Zarook
Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.
Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.
People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.
Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.
Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013
Im going to tell you a story about a girl.
She was smart, and ready to take on the world.
Had a hard childhood with her mother always ill,
but her father worked hard and struggled to pay the bills.
My name is Pam and the poem your about to read,
Is a interesting poem, all about me.
I started to feel depression and pain,
at the age of 15 I was snorting cocaine.
I got pregnant at a young age and wanted to explore,
So I walked right out of my families door.
Time went on and I was still not around,
My mom grew sicker and dad wearing a frown.
Not much longer until I experienced this change,
and tragic horrible hurt and feeling of pain.
I walked in that room ,and climbed in the bed
I layed down beside him, and layed down my head.
With my hear I could hear his heartbeat.
The next thing I new we were burying him six feet deep.
At the funeral they said she was in a better place,
but it just wasnt fair to see that look on her face.
My mom that is she died with my dad,
She may have been breathing but always so sad
Two years later she decided to give up,
her faith was gone and hope for luck up.
Thats when I really started to struggle,
barely getting by and forgetting that i was mother.
She seen me drift into a dark place,
I started loosing weight in my stomach and my face.
Before I new it I was always getting high,
Weeks became months, and time flew right by
Its to bad that I chose this new path I was on ,
Because on August 11Th I got a call saying my mother was gone.
Like a replay I walked into that room,
to see her lying there as stiff as a broom.
I layed down beside her and rubbed my fingers
through her hair , but the pain I was feeling I just couldn't bare.
You would think after loosing my mom and my dad,
Anything else wouldnt seem near as bad
Within four years I had nothing left,
My child was taken for my foolish regrets.
Just me and my addiction no more tears to cry,
so many different ways that I could get high.
I would like to introduce this powerful drug,
It bring nothing but bad when I was searching for love.
The name is crystal, Crystal Meth
The one thing in the world, I wish I had never met...
Copyright © Pam Siddall | Year Posted 2012
It’s a mother-in-law’s right, her prerogative
To ‘drop in’ on her son almost any time,
But a mother-in-law should always be prepared
For almost anything she may find.
So, Mother Cready dropped in unannounced;
But as she approached her son’s front door,
Suddenly it opened. “Ta Da! Do you like my happy dress?”
His young wife stood there in her ‘all in all’…nothing more.
“Oh, my word!” Mother Cready exclaimed with surprise.
“Why are you naked? Are you insane?”
Just as surprised, the young wife pulled her inside.
“Please, Mother Cready…if you’ll just let me explain.
You see, when Mac has had a rough day,
When he’s been under a lot of stress,
Sometimes I meet him at the door
With a smile and a kiss in my happy dress.
It always relaxes him and makes him happy,
Then he makes me very happy too.
It works for Mac and me, Mother Cready;
Maybe it would work for you.”
“We’re too old for such.” scoffed Mother Cready.
“Perhaps if we were young like the two of you.”
But, on her way home, she decided
She was definitely going to try it too.
So, she bathed and put on some nice perfume,
Fixed her make-up and her hair.
She was thinking some very sexy thoughts,
But she had to hurry…no time to spare.
She heard her husband’s car in the driveway;
And as he approached their front door,
She threw it open. “Ta Da! Do you like my happy dress?"
She stood there in her ‘all in all’…nothing more.
She saw a little grimace cross his face,
But that was not the worst.
Then he said, “I appreciate your happy dress, my dear;
But maybe you should have ironed it first.”
ALTERNATE LAST VERSE
“Well…your ‘happy dress’ could use some ironing;
But my birthday suit could use some starch.”
He kissed her. “Bet you and I can work it out.”;
And off to bed they marched.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
I am God's child, first and forever
I am known by many different titles, a daughter
I am a wife
I am a mother
I am a grandmother
I am a poet
I am by several ways, known as a sister
I am an acquaintance
I am a loyal friend
I am a stranger
I am a cousin
I am an Auntie
I am a niece
But who is this person, they all call "Denise?"
She is a child to God
She is a niece
She is a cousin
She is a stranger
She is a loyal friend
She is an acquaintance
She is known to many, a sister
She is a poet
She is a grandmother
She is a mother
She is a wife
She is known as a daughter to many
She is everything, she'd ever dreamed her life to be....
She is happier than she ever imagined possible
SHE IS "DENISE"
Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013
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.
Copyright © Albert Price | Year Posted 2010
The following immunizations
Recommended for kids
10 to 12 years old
Help protect from dangerous diseases
These important shots
Tdap (tetanus diphtheria, pertussis)
Protects against 3 dangerous diseases
Required before 7th grade
Kids need 1 shot between ages 10-12 years
HPV (Human papilloma virus)
Requires 3 shots for full protection
First shot required between ages 9 or 12
A booster at age 16
Protects against infections
Can cause brain and kidney damage
Preteens need 1 shot at age 11 or 12
Much serious than the common cold
Everyone needs to get the flu vaccine every year
Even young healthy kids
More than just an itchy rash
Can cause Pneumonia or serious infections
Kids needs 2 shots
Talk to your doctor
About getting these vaccines
Protect yourself against these serious diseases
Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2013
I wrapped all my tears, to see you smile.
you are the best, always by my side.
I tell you my feelings will get you crying,
you must think I’m out of my mind.
You don’t know, what I know,
all the angels let me go.
We were born to teethe and die,
you will grow to be so fine.
Fall in love, feel your softer side,
Remember me when life is kind.
When you go, let me know,
don’t walk away like the world and go.
Life is rough and the world unkind,
fight them down and you will be fine.
The truth of live is a brutal sight,
make no mistakes, you can learn from mine.
You have a strong heart, you are unique
I treasure times when you smile at me.
Live the life, I could not find,
be there for me, when I say goodbye.
Copyright © Karan Patade | Year Posted 2013
What is it?
Must we mark a calender,
and tell ourselves,
Okay, this is the midway point,
we’ve reached the summit.
From this point forward,
we’re on a downhill slide,
where the river’s bend
is transparent, purple turns
to gray, and summers char
your insides to ashes?
Do winters now
begin to freeze bones,
crack them like icicles
falling on concrete?
I have passed
the midway point,
so where does this leave me?
Do I vegetate, or
keep sliding into zero?
Well, listen up, mark it down.
I refuse to accept defeat,
I will beat the odds.
I am my mother’s daughter.
Her indomitable spirit
permeates my genes.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2015
A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast
Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds
Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are
Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs
Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens
#Poem by +Gokul Alex
Copyright © Gokul Alex | Year Posted 2013
Bows in the pigtails, bows on the dress
swinging her arms, loving all the sass
bouncing and beautiful, rounding and rue
we flow into the coming days, of kissing Sue.
Sue is immortal, holding her babes,
loving her man, cooking her meals,
wanting for the beyond, entering her days
slowing and slowing until she sits more than swings.
And there you find her bowed back all alone,
waiting for a call, wanting everyone back home,
kisses so remote, we wonder how they disappear
until we find warmth with the one who calls us home.
Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2014
So at 47 I have arrived.
A position most disconcerting,
A blatant assault.!
An ego in default.
Should have steered left,
Perhaps joined a cult.
Having settled back into the lap,
Of my original birth sack,
I am anything but patient.
I now care for
My matriarch. Ancient!
As she skids down that slippery,
That slaughterhouse of all hope.
Toward her final expiration.
Once a beauty of
The extraordinary kind
With the quickest of mind,
Don't get it twisted.
Aging is nothing if not unkind,
Names of her clan,
She now labors over, unable to find.
Her once glowing blonde tresses,
Sexy, 50’s signature dresses,
Athletic leaps, impressive,
All night sexual feats,
Replaced now with wrinkles.
A faint frame, once sturdy
Now wobbles and crinkles.
I shall have her warped feet, it appears,
Twisted, worn down from all the years,
As I step back and upsize,
The navy blue faded from her eyes,
Now light gray, I see my own,
Paired with my offensive demise.
I say “Nay!!!”
Launching a rather
Loudly inappropriate protest.
With all of my feisty lather,
I attempt a half-assed jest!
But I'm not joking.
I am not.
Gravity. What a horribly shitty guest!
I opt out!!
I simply do. It just not for me.
This aging get-down,
Perhaps it's for you?
But not I.
Protesting with an icy chill,
This is a far cry from a thrill.
(Excuse me for just a moment,
I must go take another pill.)
Sore joints, crows feet, vision going South?
I have had my fill!
You must understand my decision,
Appreciate my unprecedented position.
I have been paying for the botulism syringe,
Carefully dodging sunbeams that offend,
From beneath my wide brimmed hat.
Ordering fine potions.
(Please! Ship STAT!)
Getting any older?
Nope. Not doing that!
I opt out!
Yes, you heard me,
I'm simply won’t go.
I've called the 800 number,
About losing my glow.
What about my sexual, slippery slide,
Threatening a possible dry run?
My feisty partner laughs and says,
“Princess Vanity,” you have no choice here!”
I say “Nay!” “I refuse!”
I’ll even give up my,
The entire month I decided to show,
If I can dramatically get this aging thing to slow!
You enjoy getting older, but I’m showing age the door.
I shall remain the way I am at present,
Don’t care what’s inevitable,
It matters not who says it.
This girl is aging no more.
I opt out!!!
Copyright © Elisa Christensen | Year Posted 2016
For nine months I carried you beneath my heart
Felt you growing and moveing, feeling such Joy
Eagerly awiating your arrival, knowing you will soon
The day you were born was filled with happiness
As I held you in wonder, my little miracle, my little babe
Counting toes and fingers, seeing your little face
Love just bursting from my heart as I just gazed
I watched you grow in time, first smile, first tooth
Crawling, walking then running, always curious
Holding your hand walikng you to school on the first day
Taught you to ride a bike, picked you up when you fell
Kissing the hurt away, just to see you smile that pretty smile
Seeing you grow and mature, into a young adult
Starting high school, learning to drive, dating
Now here it is juinor year, one more year and your gone
To test your wings, to fly away and learn even more new things
I hope my love is enough to guide you on your way
To give you that sense you can do anything you set out to do
Always remember that I love you and you are my little one
May 5th Written for my beautiful daughter
Copyright © Teresa Lindsay | Year Posted 2013
The Apple PASTURE
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.
Copyright © JAY JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011
Wherever she is tell her
Tell her she is a woman so strong
Her words are always never wrong
Tell her this I said
Tell her every word I obeyed.
Tell that good woman
That I am now a man
Her wisdom flows in me
Opens my eyes to see
Tell her wherever she is
Tell her I said this.
She raised me up
Breast fed me on her lap
To correct me pinched my ear
She wiped my every tear
Tell her I am now a man
Tell that good woman.
Mother of four
Her I will live for
I will share
Her wisdom I will pass on
Till I too pass on
Tell her happy I am
with her words in my ear drum
Her wisdom in my mind
Her love in my heart so kind
Tell mother her son
will shine bright like the sun
Tell that good woman
Her son is a man.
Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2014
You always run after me,
In playful and angry mood;
You scold loudly,
Take stick in hand to bash;
You play with me,
As if you play with doll;
Hug me hard,
Soothes my heart;
Take me in your lap,
Gives me warmth;
Care my dress,
Care my look,
And braid my hair;
your chat does not end;
You sing a song for me,
lyrics are so sweet,
My ears too rapt,
Don't feel being bored;
You are always after my life;
Don't do this, don't do that,
don't talk like this,
Don't sit there,
Don't go there,
Don't stay late,
Worry appears in your face;
Wait near the window,
Lips move complaining me;
You feel relieved when,
Watch my glimpse;
'O' Mama, my Mama,
You are always after my life;
© sadashivan nair?
Copyright © sadashivan nair | Year Posted 2016
Is It God We Trust? Or Leave In the Dust?
As our courts remove God from this great nation.
We are left with a confused and lost generation!
As God is taken away from our public schools.
A huge tide of immorality is what “rules.”
The Bible is often mocked and discarded.
It was on it’s principles this country was started!
Just about anything of God seems to get scorned.
So many “rush” to worship many ungodly forms.
As God’s name is often tossed and thrown out.
We tend to forget what HE is all about!
Too often, his plans for living are tossed and abused.
No wonder, there’s many who are lost and confused!
As people forget God and worship the fallen creature.
They look to themselves and “glorify” their features.
Many ignore God, and get involved in deep addictions.
And with this, come disease,
heartache and afflictions!
As God looks and sees this nation “bleeding.”
It’s his righteousness, that we need to be seeking!
If we would humble ourselves, he would hear our prayer!
He loves all of us! And he really does care!
Won’t you come to HIM, And invite him in?
Won’t you allow him to be your master and friend?
He brings strength and nourishment to the soul!
It’s only in him that we can be made whole!
By Jim Pemberton
Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013
My sub-division is called the place of old people
There’re no young people in their formative age
With no kids but only single mom or dad in ample
Known as the place of aged people of suffrage.
There’re no young people in their formative age
To regenerate returning to their homes in picture
Known as the place of aged people of suffrage
With no ambitions of the present or the future.
To regenerate returning to their homes in picture
No grown-ups with fervent hope and ambition
With no ambitions of the present or the future
But it’s place the with self-obsessed bohemian.
No grown-ups with fervent hope and ambition
Bothering no more for diapers no happy mother
But it is the place with self-obsessed bohemian.
To take children around to play no happy father.
Bothering no more for diapers no happy mother
With no kids but only single mom or dad ample
To take children around to play no happy father.
My sub-division is called a place of old people.
Rhyme Scheme: ABCD, BEDF, EGFH, GIHJ, ICJA.
Seventh place winner
Dr. Ram Mehta
Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2010
Everybody knows that it's against the law for grown men and grown women to date all of the underage boys and girls,. let alone a 14-year-old boy or a 15-year-old girl. The law also states that any adult who tries to have this so-called "intimate sexual relationship" with any of the underage boys and/or girls would likely go to jail for a period of time and upon release, they'll have to be register sex offenders for the rest of their lives. It seems that those teen girls would rather date men in their 20's or 30s than guys their age and those teen boys would rather date women twice their age than girls their age, as well. but luckily, their parents (the mothers and the fathers) are here to prevent these so-called "May-December" relationships from ever happening, especially when they're protecting their teenage offspring from dirt-bags like these would-be pedophiles. But no matter what the parents do, no matter how hard they try, their teen sons and/or daughters, they secretly continuing dating older men/older women, even at night (midnight, 2 am, or 3 in the morning, e.g.). And the next thing everybody knows, their parents, they will have found out about it; thereby finding them in bed with the adults; their parents should make multiple police reports and pud the cradle robbers behind bars for good. Boy this is starting to look like an episode of "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" (Season 6-Episode 19-Intoxicated featuring Danielle Panabaker) and an episode of "Snapped," especially when Sarah Johnson killed her own parents in cold blood because she was afraid that the late Mr. and Mrs. Alan and Diane Johnson would send this guy name Bruno Santos to prison or have him deported back to Mexico for statutory rape (by way of dating a then-16-year-old girl). There's no way that those teen boys and teen girls are ever going to get into a bunch of serious, intimate relationships with a bunch of would-be cradle-robbing adults. They need to concentrate on their education and they need to be with guys and girls their age. I mean, one teen boy dating a n adult female? One teen girl dating an older man? My God, their parents will be seriously upset about this. Who on Earth would be dumb enough to fall for an older woman or an older man? And if these would-be pedophiles in the form of grown men and women even attempt to rob these teen boys and girls of their innocence and whatnot, the parents are going to have a problem up in here.
Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2011
I had a mother once, twice, a third would be too much.
A sickly mother with her hands all shriveled, and feet cold.
The fingers were long and the wrists were swollen.
The nails on her, hmmm, not sure. But they were there.
Oh, the layers, after layers, many layers shaping many forms.
My head is spinning!
Is that coffee or tea? I asked.
"No, it's coffee." Someone mentioned from a very far distant. (mother)
"Oh" I responded, to myself, of course.
The days are nice when I can go outside and take a walk.
The swollen wrists, and um those cold feet, shh, the nails, on her_.
How does a rabbit catch A,
a rabbit doesn't, but a squirrel could.
A split at the end with no remorse, has its toll on due course.
Say goodbye mother, until, the rainbow changes its shape.
On the horizon, where summer beaches meet the people half-way.
Did I forget to say, thank you,
I thank you mother and I thank you, I THANK YOU (close the book)
The End (take a bow)
Copyright © Brigett Hurley | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
My mom I always there
To fill my every want and need
I couldn't ask for a better mom,
To help me succeed
She doesn't like to see me hurt,
'Cause it makes her really sad
She's very protective, but I guess it comes with being a mom
My mom has that motherly touch,
That puts me to sleep every day and night
My mom isn't the Old fashion mother, 'cause she's really upbeat
I have fun with her all the time
'Cause shes the best mother EVER.
She says I'm a sprouting image of her and I know that I am
But that's a good thing since I want to be just like her
Copyright © Bobbi Settles | Year Posted 2014
Mother Nature, You The Seed Of Earth's Delights
Soft spoken and sweet art thy graceful ways
Within forests of rainbow trees a light shines
For each of thy songs, the sad world pays
Reluctance in glory and resentfully it opines.
Coming Spring, brings increases in thy lights
With calming days and grace in castle towers
Soft spirits dance in woods on cooler nights
And later finds comfort in thy majestic powers!
Sun and morn bring far more pleasant things
Even happiness in light cool spring showers
Gratitude for blessings thy heart always brings
Admiration for thy gracefully wielded powers.
Mother Nature, you the seed of earth's delights
And greatest author of its most beautiful sights!
R. J. Lindley
no date on old poem.
No date on an old poem. Most likely late 70's to early 80's.
found six verses to another poem that I may finish if I
can find the time and do not forget to do so.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
Mother luck shine on me
Like the sun on a steel
Make way for me in the desert
Let them know i come not in vain
In this world but to impact
On my generations not to watch in vain
Shine greatly on my face and body
Honour my soul to actualize
Those dreams nature gives to me
Mother earth was there, she bear
Me a pleasurable witness on that day
The creator gave the birth right of success to me
Shine hope on me, i do not crave for foolish
Riches rather for goodwill and honesty
among my people and the next generation
Mother luck shine on me for success
Shine greatness on me not failure
Shine smiles on me not sadness
Make the air pronounce my humble name
And single me out for good from the multitude
Mother luck smile on me like the sun
On a steel.
Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2014
Super Sonic Sonnet
Complete are my lover’s thoughts in dark brier
With airs of aristocracy’s sweet critique
Her mind takes flight, a supersonic liar
Smiles warmth wears deceit like a prize unique
What grows outside your lovely courtyard facade?
Quadrangular, fortified thick gray walls
Hubris, incongruous, flourishing macabre
Infamous fragile beauty flaws, that’s all
Speeding to the grave, your love is there, dead
Daughters take the splendor, learn mother’s ways
Build other fortresses, stronger, to life’s dread
Days go by, to ponder the doomed accolades
Destinations for lovers and daughters pass
Become the past without wealth that never lasts
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014