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Mother Child Poems | Mother Poems About Child

These Mother Child poems are examples of Mother poems about Child. These are the best examples of Mother Child poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

A Mother's Envy and Pride

Lapis lazuli mines with wide blue eyes
bringing to mind precious stones and
caramel scones; innocent and wise -
Wondering, yet without surprise.

Staring down the universe, a challenge
in your look though you are young;
The earth made only nine revolutions 
since you came out to see the sun.

Unguarded and arched, your brows 
betray high wire tension; enough 
to light up a hundred moons and warm
plump cheeks to cherry bubble gum.

Be not impatient to grow; you smell
of open grasshopper meadows
and firefly lighted lakeshore walks.
You’re a mother’s envy and pride.

Red lips! Your passion for life exists.
Scarlet, lipstick would be a surfeit -
Today as then till many summer’s been,
your spirit will always be free as the mist.



After:  Portrait of Carol Nye  Rhoades (Robinson) (1915)


For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting No. 2
Kim Patrice Nunez
08 January 2016

Poem of the Week:  January 10-16, 2016

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2016


Details | Acrostic |

CARMEN

Can a child ever forget, how deep a mother’s love abides

All those days since birth, till now I’m grown she guides

Remembering her smile, so tender, so warm as her embrace

More than soothes away my pain, my fear of failure and disgrace

Even in my dreams she comforts, her voice, her scent would stay

Never will her being mother stop, till when I’m old and gray.





26 March 2015
Contest : Acrostic on Mother's Day - 1st Place
Sponsor : TAMMY REAMS

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Little Wishes

Little wishes on great big stars.
Daughter, I make a wishes for you.
Keep on growing and keep on smiling.
And I'll keep loving all that you do.

Little dreamers wishing big things.
The world is your stage to display.
You can sing and you can dance.
Enjoy all that comes your way.

Little hopes in a great big world.
Nothing can stop your free spirit.
Make some noise, play a beat.
It's beautiful music when I hear it.

Little kisses from my now big girl,
You're growing up so fast it seems.
Pretty soon you'll leave the nest
And fly after all of your dreams.

Little girl I love you,
And I love you even more.
Because I made a wish once,
And you're what I wished for.


Written April 09, 2014

Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2014


Details | Verse |

Mesmerized

I paint your beauty in my heart and mind  
in swirling strokes of wind squalls and light;
the youthful lift of limbs of early spring,   
with summer’s joyful red, with fall's surprise.
I paint you in wonder of winter’s white
through snow storm's chill and my loving eyes.

I paint you beyond the blue pain of the past
with the gray of fear the future hides.
Jealous of luring space and power of time, 
yet, with all the hope, the joy, the ache
as seen in the strength of my trembling hand;
I’ll paint you again my child, mesmerized.


After:  L'Enfant au Tablier Rouge, 1886 by Berthe Morisot


For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting 8
Kim Patrice Nunez
17 January 2016

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

A Child's Prayer

Clutched tight to my chest, the doll smiles lifelessly
sending vacant stares down the darkened hall.
A solitary line of pink light sneaks through a crack in the door.
Fighting tears hanging loosely in my eyes, I listen.
 
“Please tell daddy that I love him and miss him.”
It has been two months since he died. Long, hard months.
“Keep him safe.”
His smell still lingers on his clothes in the closet.
“and bless mommy to be happy…”
How can I be happy, or even smile, when all I want is to be numb?
The tears burn in my eyes, but I can’t cry, or I might never stop.
“so that she will play with me like she used to”
I can scarcely recall the last time I was able to focus; to give her all my attention.
“help her to forgive me,”
Oh sweet baby, it’s I who needs your forgiveness.
“help her to love me again, even though sometimes I’m bad”
Oh God, is that what she thinks!?
“and please help me to find dolly so she won’t be scared tonight”
Ok, focus…just breathe.
“in Jesus name I pray, Amen.”

Clutched tight to my chest, the doll smiles lifelessly
sending vacant stares into the room lit by a solitary pink lamp.
I sneak through the door, with tears rolling down my cheeks,
and enter with a promise, that all her prayers will get answered.

05/31/15

Submission for Prayertime Memories
Hosted by Isaiah Zerbst

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

Mother and Child

and she said Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams but today I live in my daughter's happiness All my goals I left behind to watch her reach her own All my friends I do not see,to stay with her at home Money might get tight,but what is money compared to pure joy of a child What is money compared to her almond eyes Success lies dormant on shelves for years to come But what is success compared to first giggles to first steps, first mouthfuls and her little grabs Compared to gurgles and babbles to first time she calls me mama and hold on to my hands What is beauty in the world compared to a pearl This innocent child,a coloured coral petite pretty girl Yesterday,I lived for thoughts and dreams But today I live in my daughter's happiness I had my days of wine and chocolate eclaires roses on doorstep,unsigned love letters with spiced cologne and enticing words Today I live in my daughter's shadow To watch her live her own dream I watch her bloom in autumn gardens from princess of hearts become queen Tomorrow I will not be here She might not get to see the white of my hair the wrinkle in my smile But,today she knows I love her long more after petals wither long more after a mother's hug fades long after I shine from the sky.
Dedicated to my beloved Christina with love Happy first birthday wrapped with barney hugs and Winnie the pooh kisses :-$:-|B-)

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2013

Details | Pantoum |

Wayward Child

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

Details | Rhyme |

Angels Cry

She was at her window listening to the rain
Mind just wandering, immersed in pain
She was wondering if it was true that angels cry
Each time they see a child die

They took some tests but it was too late
It was in an area they couldn't operate
She smiled at him and hid her fear
They said at most another year

How much pain can a mother endure?
To look at her son and know there is no cure
There are no words that can even start
To soothe the pain in her broken heart

The days and nights went quickly past
The time had come he would breathe his last
Her faith was put to the supreme test
The day she laid her child to rest

She is alone and prays each day
The memory will forever stay
Sometimes in her prayers she just asks why
And she wonders if the angels cry.


           From the book Voices of Hope.. Thank you Crystal.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |

Still Called Mother

My body is a graveyard.
I buried you inside this defective womb.
I am less than a woman.
My flesh a fertile tomb.
Tiny ghost.
I will never hold you.

My baby is crying.
My baby is crying and no one can hear their haunting wail but me.
Night after night.
Hush now.
Shhh, 
Momma loves you.
Inviting this emotional decay,
I am damaged.

My heart is in the ground with you, dear one. 
This body betrayed me.
The space between these hips, 
Now an empty cradle.
That gentle heartbeat,
Faltered,
Ceased.

I am always with you.
Child,
Deceased.
My soul gently rocks you,
As you sleep.
When the fragile heart stops beating,
Are you still called mother?

Copyright © Nadia Steel | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

For Momma

  From a babe to a man, I needed your hand. Now I understand, it was part of God's 
ultimate plan. I was to be raised by another woman.  Don't get me wrong, Grandmomma was something! She gave me all the love a child could need. She was always there for me. Truly a blessing! No Mother, you don't owe me a thing. Not even an explanation. I can't sing, so I wrote this dedication, tTo show my appreciation.

 Momma, Momma you're still #1. No matter the distance; rRegardless of what you've done. As God is my witness, I'm still your son.

Yes I hold resentments, and that is hard to ignore. My hurt I can't hide. When 
you kicked me out. And out of your three children, why was I the one you let go? 
From afar you watched me grow. Did you worry about my well being? On the surface, looks can be deceiving. No, I was not well. I was actually a child living in hell. Easy for you to say "It's over, it's the past". I was forced to grow up too fast!

Momma, Momma you're still #1. No matter the distance. Regardless of what you've done. As God is my witness. I'm still your son.

I remember spending the night with you and that was such a treat, just to escape the hurt from being beat. Looking back it was a real tragedy. I felt you didn't love me. You were my Mother but you gave me up so easily. Grandmomma became my only family. The only person I could rely on. But now she's gone. Even now as a grown man, I feel so alone. If I could sing, this would be my song--

Momma, Momma you're my queen. For you I would do anything. I just want you to be proud of me. Whatever I've done, please accept my apology. I'm not perfect, never claimed to be. 

But I am strong. Especially dealing with this pain for so long. I just hope we can finally be a family when I come home.

Dedicated to my Momma "Phyllis Ann Lopez"


Note: Thank you Poetry Soup for allowing me to share another piece of my life.   From both 
pieces "For Grandmomma" to this piece "For Momma" you can picture my relationships with 
both women. My mother was far from perfect...But no one is perfect and I love her all the 
same!  Jimmy

Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse |

Mother and Child Divided - Damien Hirst

Bisected cattle. Divided
by nurture, not nature.

Fumes seep from amniotic tombs,
corrosive, curling round curiosity.

Curio cows entombed, split
and suspended like the herd hanging

speechless, tongues silenced
after lunch munching on gossip

bovine, tethered to turquoise time.
Glacial wombs separate, untouchable.

But no cow is sacred
in this slice-and-dice life

and the dismembered world
reflected in an onyx eye is unholy.

Life herded to still life, dividing Mother
and Child, womb and tomb.

No place for mother and child
in this mausoleum of macabre

where Friesians freeze in formaldehyde -
a frieze of unease, soundlessly bawling

that bonds get broken,
that life's knife dissects us all.




23 May 2017

To view Damien Hirst's work go to www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/hirst-mother-and-child-divided

Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |

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,
Agonizing
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.
Bravely
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

Details | Free verse |

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

Details | Rhyme |

Son

You came to me on angels wings
Your smile was so divine,
I looked into your big blue eyes
Not believing you were mine.

With skin so soft and hair of down
You came to me that day,
And as I held you on my breast
You stole my heart away.

Sweet child if you could ever know
The love I felt for you,
As the years flew quickly by
That love just grew and grew.

So I’ll just quietly watch you grow
Into a man my son.
I want you to know what a privilege it is 
For me to be your mom.

Written by Brenda  Meier-Hans
2002
Gautami Phookans Contest:
The Sweetest Touches of Verse

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Where Are You Now

Where are you now, my baby girl
You came into my life and changed my world
I had you in secret because no one could know
To whom you belonged
Whose seed was sown
You had to be hidden away
So no one would find out
My terrible secret
The one that kills me now
I don't know where you are
I don't know where you've gone
I don't know how in this world
I will be able to press on
You have been gone so many years
You are an adult now
Unaware of your secret 
Not knowing my vow
My baby girl I miss you! 
Even though I have never seen your eyes
They took you straight from me
And told me it was wise
I wish I could have held you
Before they took you away
No matter what I will find you
And with me always you will stay


I have gotten so many comments to this end and I wanted to ease everyone's mind that this is not autobiographical. I wanted to sincerely thank everyone for their heartfelt concern, but there is no need. This is (for me) only a poem and has no bearing in real life. Thanks so much everyone!

Copyright © April Gabriella | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

My First Child

A precious gift! Joy unimagined fills my heart She smiles! My heart races, leaping! And like a butterfly in spring, gliding, It dips among new blossoms Like a sweet melody playing softly in the cool of the evening, I soar! My baby, my first, like an angel sleeps Soft, warm and brown I stare in awe of this most perfect gift from God! Tiny almond-shaped eyes, sparkle- searching Nothing as beautiful have I ever seen! She cries and her teardrops like crystal daggers Pierce, my joyful heart! And like a wounded sparrow it plummets Free-falling, and I am left puzzled...confused Nervous, I gently hold her close to my breast I am sure she can feel my heart beating.. Suddenly our faces brush... she turns- Our eyes lock, and smiles ripple! My first born--all is well in my world.
© 1992 ~*~

Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2007

Details | Narrative |

Adult Child of an Alcoholic

Your face and rotting teeth and heavy jowls
         and sunken breasts with bulging waist and
         wooden legs
         betray
Your image of laughter, lovemaking, seeking
         bourbon tweaked philosophies
         of life begins
         at  forty.
The hands that tremble as you tilt
         the glass that begins another
         day of
Tirade thoughts, empty lies, money spent on
         lipstick coated leeches who prey on
         your diminishing
         breath.

Through these wintry days pass faces long past
         into what was then
              while with the coming spring ...
                       at last!  at last!
One can remember
         and want no more 
              what could never be:
                      a Mother.

Copyright © Sue Mason | Year Posted 2007

Details | Narrative |

Iowas Child

Gone are the fields of winter white
soon to be replaced by hues of greens and yellows,
in the interim, fields of barren brown and dirty gold
turned, to breathe warm air from departed winter chill

Plumes of black and gray from mans machine
kneading the back of Mother Earths desire,
before impregnating her with the many seeds 
that will produce offspring to quench mans many needs

oh, how lonesome she looks, so alone
holding yet to some remnants of children past,
left only to cradle her dead, left by man
yearning to suckle new life, as only a Mother can

Above, from the heavens, Father prepares
to germinate those so many seeds,
with life sustaining necessities only he is allowed
sunlight and life giving rain, loosened from the clouds

within days Mother is impregnated
she can feel the multitudes of organic life,
moving within her womb, yearning,growing, needing
the escape, to be warmed and nourished by the Sun

Minutes turn to hours, hours to days
suddenly weeks pass,and yet another life,
giving rain, descends from guilded clouds
arms and fingers, of her children, open, sustained

nearing the end of a warm and wonderful summer
it is time for Fathers other children,
to reap what he has sewn
time for Mother Earth to let her children go

My, how they have grown, tall,lush and full
of the fruit they were meant to bear,
to provide nourishment for the masses of seeds
grown to maturity, in need from the father

Again, the gray black plumes of mans machine
come to life, they move through her fields,
her children, like a predator among prey
until, she is left again, with remnants of children past

Soon she will be blanketed again in winter white
gone will be the warm breath of life,
her children taken from her, she is again barren
only to be betrothed to a promise of new life.


I wrote this on a day trip to Illinois from Iowa across wide open farm land.

                      God Bless....Taz

Copyright © Richard Pickett | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet |

How The Memory Flows

Can you remember this feeling very much.
Hearing something in the kitchen making a fuss.
I can remember it so well, it's like yesterday.
Pots and pans wrattle, as I'm outside to play.
I would be playing in the dirt or kicking a beach ball.
Hearing mamma in the kitchen, hoping she'd call.
I know that she's cooking dinner in there.
I'm not sure what it is and I don't really care.
I am completely dirty from my head to my toes.
Is there dessert or ice cream, she only knows.
I can smell the cooking from the yard and all sides.
With realization I know it's sloppy joe and french fries.
How it was when I was young.
Freedom around the yard I could roam.
I loved my mamma and daddy for just being there.
I'd be nothing without them, no love or no care.

-No contest, just some things I was thinking.

Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |

- Mother With A Child -


              
                   Can you see the beauty in a newborn child

                      Whom a  mother will always protect

                    Wishing her child every star in the sky

             The strength of her love she would forever project


                                             ~

                                  The Natures Law











03.11.2016
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Child Mother

Lying on my back,
the warm sun blanketing,
I watched the cloud stacks drift,
breezily blown across the bluest skies,
imagining, dreaming . . .

Dangling from my lips,
sweet honeysuckle straws dripped nectar candy,
delicious extract for flavoring dreams,
visions of the joys to come
when I was older grown,
reveries of life and love
and children of my own.

Beneath the apple tree,
in spring pink blossom carpeted,
I laid out the charming rooms
that framed a happy home.
The hollyhocks lent their blooms
for babies hankie-swaddled
and clothed in petal gowns of white and pink.
My flower-children, plump and fragrant skinned,
rocked in cradles strung between the branches,
were lulled to sleep with tender lullabies.

The happy days of childhood passed,
and I was suddenly grown
with tiny babies of my own,
sweeter far than any flower known.
The kisses that I gave to them
were answered, returned to me,
from lips like rose buds formed
perfumed with baby breaths, fragrant and warm.

The childhood dream that I held dear
I treasured year after year
until I found it realized,
reflected in my babies' eyes.

Copyright, August 16, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

In The Late August Sun

Watching leaves cartwheel down
we meet at the bench
tucked under the trees, in the park

Unable to speak
I am feeling a squeeze in my breast
My emotions are clenched
with years of unrest
since that day that I left, empty armed

Still weak in the knees
I must sit while I watch 
this child, once mine,
sit cross-legged, in light
of the late August sun

His fingers unpeel
the paper, and twine
from the gift I have brought
from a little gift shop 
that I passed when I walked in the night

With the package undone,
he smiles up at me
and I see in his eyes
the wholeness of him
	
And I am strangled to say
the words that I could….
Would  I tell him the things
that would empty those eyes
of a soft place to land ?

Now he grabs for the hand
of the mother he knows
and I thank her with eyes
before I must go

I must leave him to her
and not say the words
that would follow him home for all time

I have broken away
any hold that I had
except for the one
that chokes out the sun
on a hot August day
in the late afternoon

A leaf tumbles down, then is swept by the breeze
Only here for a moment, then gone

___________________________________________________
A Fictional Poem Based On Contest: "Long Lost Family"

8/15/16
And for Contest: Personal Best of 2016
Sponsored by Frank Herrera

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

I'm turning into Mother

I’m turning into mother
Eyebrows, nose, and lips.
Bosoms hanging, almost, to
my child bearing hips.

She’s grumpy and forgetful
And I’m growing much the same.
Tables now are turning
In the parent child game.

It’s me that does the cleaning,
Feeds and dresses too
Who always asks before we go
‘have you been to the loo’?

Her childlike ways increasing
throwing tantrums, snubbing food,
and me left to be patient
understanding, kind, and good

I’m turning into mother.
But the future I can see.
‘cos they tell me life’s a circle,
and soon, that child will be me.

Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Stop!

Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Listen!

Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Think!

Think of how you treat,

grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Act!

Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,

grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,

men,

all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatern |

Harridan in a Housecoat

~Harridan in a Housecoat~ Four small children sent for care as their mother was taken so ill No father could they reach for them so they were sent off at someone’s will In the night taken from their beds, no word spoken, hearts full of dread Taken to a town far away and not knowing what lay ahead. A huge housecoat descended down like a crow devouring road kill At the side stood a henchman, pointed nose, dark hair, and vengeful Warning words left in theirs ears "be good or else there will be trouble" “No one wants you now you know, not your parents” she burst that bubble. The housecoat and the henchman dealt out their ghastly deeds To three of the children she vented her spleen, her willing helper dealt her needs The fourth child the baby, she showered with kisses and good food to eat She bought her clothes and dressed her well, and spoke to her words so sweet. The three all under the age of six did dread each and every night When scrubbed with scrubbing brushes, their skin looking red raw and tight. She had to get the scum off them because they were now in care It was obvious that no one loved them, that’s why they were there. Frightened and timid were the three, but the youngest was well looked after Jealousy did form in the minds of the three - it robbed them of their laughter The harridan in the housecoat with her willing henchman Thought up little tortures finding the Achilles’ heels in each child one by one. The housecoat and the henchman were in for big surprise When the father sent for the children, she couldn’t believe her eyes Bribery she tried on the siblings so the children would never tell But there is not one that would condemn her to her well preached hell. The housecoat and the henchman a mother and daughter no less A good churchgoing family with their holy pictures to bless Evil in their deeds of torture and of mental games The harridan in the housecoat and the daughter with no name.
© ~GG~ 6/08/2012

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quintain (English) |

Shaft Of Light

From somewhere in the pitch of night, comes a remnant from my childhood. The door lets in a crack of light, and there, outlined, where mother stood is a silhouette, against the wood. And, as if a star had gone astray she would touch my hair and kiss my brow, and brush my worries far away, while letting me allow, my eyes to close for sleep, somehow And as the years have come and gone I've often wished for just one night, from where she is, her light was thrown... And that somehow in the dead of night, the door allowed the shaft of light
______________________________________________________ 8/27/15

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

My God on Earth: My Mother

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

Details | Rhyme |

Face Of A Beggar Child

FACE OF A BEGGAR CHILD

I saw your tear-stained face O’ child
It swam before my eyes at night
I clearly saw your life’s struggle,
Your painful hunger pangs and fright.

In my dreams I could clearly see
Your shredded clothes and unkempt hair.
At such a tender age O’ child,
On your face it was all written there.

No one to care for you my child
No one to call your very own.
No mother nor father to call you son, 
No siblings to call you come hither bro’.

I wondered how you came to be
In such a distressed way of life
Each day you have to beg for alms
And face the world’s rage and strife.

Were you the victim of natural disaster,
Like quake or floods epidemic or plague.
Or was it due to human vices
Like war or bloody bath of  death.

Were you  lost in busy hustle of life,
Was it all due to human greed.
Were you the fruit of sin and tossed,
Amidst dirty dustbin where dogs came to feed.

Your tear-stained face swims before my eyes,
And asks me how it came to be.
That  God created all humans alike,
But gave them different destiny.

Oh God, this your humble servant,
Asks you just one small question.
If there are so many tear-stained faces present,
Why Mother Teressa was only one.

Copyright © Kulsum Mehmood | Year Posted 2011

Details | Couplet |

REUNITED

Mother and son
After forty years
A new life
They have begun

They were apart
For so many years
It was impossible
To count and keep track
Of all the tears

It all started
When he was six years old
There were no schools for his kind
They were told

They searched and searched
And finally found
A place that would accept him
But it was far away
In another town

The sad day finally arrived
His father was ill and could not drive
His brother drove the car
His mother and sister
Traveled along with the small lad
To the new place afar

What they had to do
Was not
A pleasant thought to think
Out of this cup
They wished
They did not have to drink

They realized the time
Was drawing near
They would leave this precious child
In the hands of strangers
Which, he would no doubt fear

This would not only be a school
To train his fragile mind
But would also be his home
For an indefinite period of time

They finally reached their destination
They entered the new world
With great anxiety
And heart felt anticipation

The thought occurred to them
To turn and run
But they realized
They must finish
What they had begun

After the questions were answered
After all the papers were signed
It was time for them to go
And leave the little one behind

They turned to walk away
With tears running down each ones face
As the child screamed
‘mommy don’t leave me in this place!”

Not a word was spoken
On their way home
Each was dealing with this
On their own

He stayed at that home
Until he was eight
Then he moved closer to his mom and dad
Which was great

At the age of ten
His dad passed away
That left his mom alone
To make sure he was taken care of
And that he would be okay

He moved one more time
To a state facility
This would be the last
The next will be
A home in the community

This would be his family
Which he really never had
To share his good times
Along with the bad

Words cannot express the guilt
His mother must have felt
Because her child she had not kept

She did the best that she could do
And no one – but no one
Judges her wrong or untrue
Everyone knew she loved him
With all her heart
And cursed the day they had to part

He is older now and so is she
It is now time for her
To be placed in a state facility
She feels it is payback time
For sending him away
Now….
In this awful place
She will have to stay

Her mind is sharp
Her will is strong
She will not give up
Until he is gone

She prays the day will come
When they can be together
And she can make up for the wrong
She feels she has done

I am that sister
That made the long trip
That dreadful day
I now take care of these two precious people
And found them a better place to stay

The day is finally here
Forty years later
Mother and son
Are again together

She has survived death
Many times in the past
Living for this moment
Reunited at last

She wants to make up for all
The time they were apart
And become the mother
She feels she never was
And make a new start

They are now living together
In a place of their own
With assistance from others
They finally have a new home

They are living each moment
As if life has just begun
Finally reunited after forty years
Mother and son

So much laughter and so many tears
So much has happened in the last 10 years
Just seems that time has flown by
And now it is time for the
Big….
Reunion in the sky

Daddy went home to be with jesus
Almost 47 years ago
Then sonny then mama and then last
Was betty jo

No more suffering and no more pain
Gordon will be with jesus
And….see mama and daddy again

With open arms and joyous hearts
Betty and sonny will be there too
To welcome gordon home
With his mind and body ‘all new’

Gordon, you gave us much joy and happiness
While you were hear on earth
Now you can enjoy life abundant
And receive your rewards
For all you’re worth

Let our hearts not be sad
For you leaving us
But be happy for you
For you are now perfect
And….best of all
You are with jesus

Let us live our lives the best we can
And know
We will someday see jesus too
….and gordon again

In life we loved you
In death we grieve
We will see you again
This, we truly believe

Thank you gordon
For all the lives you touched
And
God bless you…and reward you much


By:charlene solitario
Bd july 1997
Ad july 2008

Copyright © charlene solitario | Year Posted 2016

Details | ekphrasis |

Tod Und Frau 1910 (Death and the Woman)

As death creeps out of the darkness,
  A mother becomes the rope in a (Tug of war.)
A child reaches to help its’ mother in her weakness,
  And stares death in the eye with abhor.

The rope falls limp in sure defeat,
  Yet the child pulls on the strength of heart.
Against the evilness and deceit,
  Fighting with the will to not be apart.

The hooks of death on weary knees,
  Shackling the arms, exposing vulnerability.
Screaming and crying the words of “please”
  The mother rests with peace and tranquility.

A child left to battle life’s groans,
  Preparing for the encounter and all its’ lour.
For one day she will meet Mr. Bones,
  And she’ll be the rope in her child’s (Tug of war.) 






__________________________________________________________
Inspired by Brian’s Picture Poem’s Contest

Käthe Kollwitz, Death and the Woman (Tod und Frau), lithograph, 1910.

http://www.mmoca.org/mmocacollects/artwork_page.php?id=31

Copyright © Abe Lopez | Year Posted 2009