Poetry Mom Poems

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Details | Free verse |
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 |
MY LIFETIME FRIEND: MY MOTHER

Throughout childhood and adolescent days,
She was my staunchest supporter,
And through teen years and young adulthood
I was glad to be her daughter.
As a mother-in-law and grandma,    
She’s there whenever/wherever she’s needed,
And if this was to be her lot in life,
She’s definitely succeeded.
But whatever she is to other folks;
A friend, sister or other,
She is to me, and will always be
MY LIFETIME FRIEND: MY MOTHER!

BY 
WENDY LEE KLENETSKY: PROUD DAUGHTER OF CECILE SEIGAL

Copyright © wendy lee klenetsky | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |
My father had been out of work for way too long.
At night, I often heard him and mom weep
Food was scant, but love was strong. 
As was that hunger pain when I lay to sleep.

My little brother was too young to understand.
Still a babe in arms, he brought our only smiles.
I loved to play with him and hold his tiny hand.
It seemed to take away the hurt from life trials.

Then, one-day dad came home all excited.
He was talking so fast, grinning from ear to ear.
He said that our future was well fated.
That we were in for adventure was clear.

It was that new ocean liner, the Titanic. 
Dad had been hired for the maiden voyage.
We were going along as his sidekick.
A family destined for American homage.

In just five days we boarded that ship.
Immigrating was a dream come true.
Accommodations would be a hardship.
But it was worth opportunities…new.

Dad worked as a scullion in the restaurant.
We were housed on the lower deck.
It was a very crowded lodgment.
We stayed together until the shipwreck.

Sirens were screeching people screaming.
We could not find dad anywhere.
Was he locked up as a cageling?
Could it be true; was he trapped down there?

Lifeboats were being lowered.
Mom held my brother, crying.
Dad must be somewhere cloistered.
We all feared a dreadful dying.

Someone put me in a lifeboat.
I reached for mom as it descended.
The Titanic was still afloat.
But my family separated.

The water was freezing.
I had forgotten my coat.
People crying, sniffling, and sneezing.
The lifeboat soon became an iceboat.

Within a few hours, death began.
Shivering, I crawled beneath two corpses.
A young girl destined to live without her clan.
Hidden from polar breezes.

That was the last time I saw my mother.
My mind holds the image clearly.
She, calling for dad, was cuddling brother.
Oh, how I loved my family dearly.

When rescuers finally arrived.
I was the only one alive in the lifeboat.
Beneath those bodies, I survived.
Then, I was wrapped in a warm coat.

I never did see America.
I was sent to an orphanage back home.
Life had dealt a great trauma.
Forever had sunken in the ocean's foam.

© April 9, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest:  My heart will go on and on.... Free Poetry 
Sponsor	Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2012




Details | Prose Poetry |
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 | Light Poetry |
I kiss-you a thousand times, a thousand times, and still I'm yearning for more.
Yearning for more-and still the passion that burns for ya is never enough as I
head home cann't get you off of my mind, I'm driving, you call just as I am about 
to open my front door; In a sweet and sexxy-voice you ask how was it (?) "If you 
could only see the smile on my face right now, is my answer to ya". you say: Bet
you say that to all your girlfriends.  I say: Only in my dreams is there ever enough
day's to incounter a night-like lastnight, "that's why I like lots of coffee in my cream".
Is she the one, (is she)-?..... the one I tell my mom about(mmm) she's the only one
that comes close to what Dad accomblished when he got caught by cubit's arrow when
he found you Mom. My mom reply: this girl most be something special. Happiness Illum-
inate's all over my room before the rise of the Sun!!!.. Is she the one???...
Is she (?) I cann't get you out of my mind, as I go to work, haven't talk to you in a few
day's, so I call you. you say: in your own lil-special way that You-too are having trouble
sleeping, (must be something in the milk) I try to make you smile: We promise to con-
nect later on, and as my workday finnally comes close to an end my friends wants to
go somewhere for a drink, maybe some other time (I say) cann't wait to be with my
baby the pain of passion has just begun. Its 11:00 p.m. the drive to your house has me  
asking myself....."Is she the one", "is she the one, you answer the door in a astonishing
neglige"..... The answer is 4''9 of all women....."Yes, she is the One"....

Copyright © John Streeter | Year Posted 2010

Details | Light Poetry |
When you’re the mom you carry the purse,
That’s the natural rule of the universe.

To a mom a purse is more than a bag,
It’s a safety net when the world starts to sag.

The pockets hold things that her family might need,
Like a granola bar with sunflower seed.

There’s a half eaten cookie and a clean pair of socks,
And a tool her grandfather gave her to set cuckoo clocks.

There’s a broken dolly in need of repair,
And a bright orange scrunchie to pull back her hair.

There are aspirins and band-aids and a coupon book,
Redeemable for vacations that never got took.

And way at the bottom is a memory of a girl,
Who would dress so young and gaily twirl.

In those days she carried a purse so small,
A dainty little bag hardly anything at all.

As she takes out the memory and starts to go through it,
She breaks out in a grin because there’s a sucker stuck to it.

She remembers what that girl wanted most for her life,
Was to one day be a mom and a good man’s wife.

Each memory she touches she remembers with pleasure,
And each item she carries becomes a small treasure.

That’s why when you’re the mom you carry the purse,
It’s the natural rule of the universe.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |
I never quite knew
what it meant.
And, if explained,
I never understood.
Shoot!  I've never even LIKED the game!
And, I never thought that I would.
But,
The fear...  The pride...
The gleam, in my eye...
The joy in my heart...
could only mean one thing.
I'm a football mom...?
YEAH!, A FOOTBALL MOM!
I love you, sweetie.
Now honey, you get out there,
AND, HIT SOMEBODY!!
OH! Did I just say that?
Where did that BASS come from?
Now, you be careful,
when you HIT SOMEBODYYYY!!!
OH MY! Well, anywho...
I've got my blanket, rain gear, 
and my thermos (minus the toddy),
so, I'll still be nice and toasty, 
when you HIT SOMEBODYYY!!!
I may not care for the game,
but I love the kid, who plays it.
Proud football mom, am I,
and my heart is just ablaze with it.
This feeling right here, is the BOMB!
So, whether home or away,
I'm in that thang!
Hecks YEAH!!!!
I'm a football mom!

Copyright © Danita Michelle Allen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Priceless pearl
my hidden diamond
love's sweet jewel

Heaven sent
Angelic countenance
Beauty so pure

Lovely daughter
your character delights
my devotion forever

Heartbeat on screen
My unbelief ceased
the moment
You
first squeezed my finger





Copyright © Christina Holmes | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
             ~The Ever Lasting Love Of A Child~

You live and still living through thee only love that can last a 
whole life time between us,that same love we knew yesterday 
when we were born remains with us today, tomorrow, and after
tomorrow.

A love so deep that only you our mother can feel it,as it
Is an unconditional love that has no end,your giving,your 
love that knows no boundaries,Its real we feel it in our depth
daily when you are not surrounding us,Its for good,Its not an
illusion mom,because Its pure.

A love which transforms our shadows to experience the 
need to stay alive,your existence in our lives will never 
fade away,our respect,our missing you allows our tears
to leave traces on our cushions during the night.

That instant love of the moment when we were born Is an 
everlasting love,we feel it,our loneliness vanishes,memories 
do not seem far away,that reality will always remain in 
process of becoming even when aging.

A love without pain this is what you made us feel,a love that 
cries out loud even be heard with the rumbling of thunder. 
That same love can be felt between electric wires,our phoning
you everyday,its so full of truth so beautiful it feels like 
a spiritual love, our beloved mom.

Seconds never pass unaccounted for,you even wipe away 
our clouded eyes,that kind of love mom can even predict
our happiness no matter what the outcome of our 
coming years would bring.

That same love has so much emotions it illuminates our souls, 
its untouchable,immeasurable,unforgettable,it is a reason 
for our existence,your love cures our pain even when 
too much time has passed away.

Mom, we both your sons will love you,forever an everlasting love.
Sorry Mum we couldn't be with you in person, but our heart
cries out for you, Happy Mothers Day. Your Sons.

                                                  
Contest for PD. Happy Mothers Day
                13/5/2013   (Win No. 8)

Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
My Darling Girl, 

your big dark eyes  met mine

against your pale skin and yellow hair

this name sang in my heart, Susan,

my Black-Eyed Susan.

A wild flower you’ll be, you’ll be a

kind friend,

loving wife,

strong mother,

sweet grandmother

and always you’ll be

my darling girl, my Black-Eyed Susan

Copyright © Alicia Lambert | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
She was a tappin' to the tunes...
of those Mississippi blues...
step-pin' out, in her white...
Pat-en-leather shoes,

We were a watchin' her a prancin',
all through the kitchen, dancin'...
for she was so...hot & sizzlin'...
hummin' to those Mississippi tunes...

Funny curlers too, upon...
her head...for a new... Hair dew,...
she was, a swirlin'-in that bakers apron,
when her head...star-ted a bobbin' to...
those Mississip-pi blues,

'Pots were a knockin'...
Grandma a sockin' down all she brews,
while that kettle there was whistlin',
in har-mo-ny, with them good ole...
good ole...mississip-pi moves,'

That floor there, was a bouncin'
holdin' hands we were a jumpin',
an-a hoppin' In the kitchen, to those...
                  sounds ...
Where Grandma's feet were a stompin',
In her new...New-white-sexy-pat-en-
leather-shoes...
(ya hoo)

Copyright © Perry Campanella | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
The best love affair of my life
Was the time I spent with another man’s wife
You would be surprised to know it
For I never involved in flirting – never a bit
She isn’t my aunt , my sister , or my cousin 
She isn’t all those pestering neighboury mausin
Or the ladies and sissies who are such a bother
She is my mother
I can say that she is a pure form of gold
Who held my hand for success till I became smartfully bold 
She is the one who taught me to be brave
And asked me to pass through the door opportunities pave
She explained me to make my feminist wings to flutter
And made me to be like the united bread and butter
She warned me to never be the quitter
Hence I promised to be the silent shot putter
She is the six letter word
Who encouraged me with the ideals of life – the true sword
She was the one whom I first saw when I was born
And she was the face who smiled at mine when I cried like the musical gigs porn
Her pallu saved me from all kind of fears
Her soft glowing touch wiped off my tears 
Her lap was the ideal place and was softer than cushions
Her shoulders were the warmest place than the lab of atomic fusions
Her sparkling eye spoke to me of the sun
Her sweet milk feeding spoke to me of the coconut bun
Her wise teachings were clear and wide like the big blue sky
Her cute angry face had sometimes made me to cry
Her single touch cured me of my wails and pains
Her lovely kiss showered me with honey rains
My heart had mingled with hers
And made me to write some of my kind letters
I can never end in a break-up
For she is my great boost up
I am forever debted to this great human
Who is just similar to the super human
I had a lovely ten month relationship with this lady
I will never be able to forget her who made me a successful caddie
As far as I can say she is an angel sent by god to the earth
Who made my life indeed worth
Respect your mom
For she is more than a beautiful farm
She is the true sculpture of love
And also the reflection of WOW

Copyright © Balambal Suryanarayanan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |
She is strong but also weak
with that beautiful smile
so graceful and meek
Her touch is soft
and her words ever so sweet
Never a dull moment
always bright and sometimes lenient
with a positive outlook
even when it's clearly out of the books
She wipes the tears, and forces the smiles
touches the heart
and never you dare cross her child
Mother, Mama, Mom, Mommy
the many names that she goes by
All quite fitting for the warrior inside
with the love giving and super healing ways
she never makes a mistake
Even when you thought she was wrong
give it a day and you'll realize exactly what she was trying to say all along ( you soon realize she was right all along)
She is the all knowing, all loving, super talented and magical gift from the God above

Copyright © Tora Simpson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
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,
Embrace gently, 
Gives me warmth;
Care my dress,
Care my look,
And braid my hair;
Unending gossip,
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

Details | Light Poetry |
O Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, mine
Please say it isn’t so!
At school today we learned about sex---
But I didn’t want to know.

O Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, dear
Please say it isn’t true!
They taught us what erections are,
And all the girls said “ew!”

Mommy mine, you haven’t done it,
Have you, Mommy dear?
But wait---how else can I explain
The fact that I am here?

Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |
My Mother

Oh mother!! You are such a blessing in my life,
That I hardly ever had to bother,
to share my feelings with nother.
                        You gave me 2 sisters one after the other,
                       And have done every little thing to make my life smoother,
                      Always gave me strength to put my shattered hopes together.
Life would have been harder,
if you were not standing by my side.
Your efforts never let my dreams fade,
even with small-big mistakes I made.
                                         When I was trying hard, you were trying harder
                                          clearing my path off any boulder.
                                          Every time I cried, giving me a shoulder,
                                          Every time I lied, becoming a scolder.
       
Tough conditions on the path of truth and honesty,
With time and people often making me cynical,
Many a times drove you to become self-critical,
But you never failed to understand my pain,
whether it was emotional or physical.

                  You put your interests on back-foot,
                  So I could pursue mine.
                  I've seen you make sacrifices so that your kids could always shine.
                  I’m sure GOD the ALMIGHTY has created only one such mother,
                       And she’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.

Copyright © Jagjot kaur | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
Here are my poem in Norwegian: (translation in English comming down below)

Du blir et år eldre
og du har gjort det med stil
Sekundene tikker
tiden er inne
du går inn i ett nytt år
med håp i sinnet

Tid for ettertanke
på året som gikk
drømmer som knuste
alt du ikke fikk

Men alt det gode
må du ikke glemme
alle de rundt deg
som er glad i deg
her hjemme


Nytt år, nye muligheter
er det noen som sier
nye sjanser feires
med store seremonier
Vi feirer deg og året
som nettopp har gått
og at du har klart deg
så flott

Du er verdens beste
mor og mormor
og du fortjener det beste
Derfor jeg som din datter
prøver mitt beste
på å få sagt det meste
i et dikt til deg

gratulerer med dagen mamma
jeg elsker deg 

Here are my poem in English: (hope you enjoy)

You are a year older
and you do it with style
seconds ticking
the time is right
you enter a new year
with hope in your mind

Time for reflection
the past year
dreams shattered
everything you did not receive

But all the good
do not forget
all those around you
who loves you at
home


New year, new opportunities
There are some who say
new chances celebrated
with large ceremonies
We celebrate you and the year
that have just gone
and that you have managed you
so great

You are the best
mother and grandmother
and you deserve the best
Therefore I, as your daughter
trying my best
to say most
in a poem for you

happy birthday mum
I love you

07/22/2012

Copyright © Laila Andresen Mjelde | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |
Her Father and brother appear smaller and smaller
through the tear blurred back window of the Austin A40
the separation of Mother and Father was for her good...

so they said.

The memory scars the heart
dulls the feminine senses.

These graves in the mind
bring her strength of soul.

The wisdom of her times
are transferred by affection and not words of advice.

Her flowered kitchen apron
expresses her love and mind.

Her faith in Christ: her strength yet purpose 
are preached by wordless sermonettes.

This is a life that reaches 
deep into the unreachable .

No fuss
But chivalrous.

Copyright © Peter Hall | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |
Mom
I love you with all my heart we will never be worlds apart

If by chance you went away

Please just trust in what i say

Your in my heart each and everyday

My love for you will always stay and it will never sway

Even if time stood still my love for you never will

You are my hero I must admit and that I will not forget

You held my hand when I was in pain and it was not in vein

I could not ask for more

Your the reason I was born...

Copyright © Tiffany Flowers | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Fly
You said you'd always be there, but how long will that last?
I'm over here living the present and preparing for the future,
while you're still stuck in the past.
I don't want to do this, but I guess I have no choice.
Keep on sitting there silently, but I still have a voice.
I'll tell you how I'm feeling, then after I will disappear.
The sound of my fading footsteps will be the last thing, from me, you'll hear.
My wings have grown, so it's time for me to soar.
I waited for you to teach me, but that's not an option, not anymore.
Just know you'll never be forgotten, you'll always be in my heart.
But I can't reach the finish line if I never start.

Copyright © Maricel Estoque | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
     FOR A SWEET SABLE SAINTLY MOTHER

Wearing her crown of pearly white hair,
Her sunken orbs glowed with a regal glare.
Her ebony hued, wrinkle hands, strong as stone
Are monuments of the burdening labor she had owned.

As her broken body has known sorrow and pain,
It remains a mystery how she has managed to remain sane.
Though her life has known despair and great depravity,
She’s never succumbed to the indignities of social gravity.

Indeed, “life for her has been no crystal stair”,
Yet, for us, she has always been there with loving care.
She’s the sturdy black bridge which we’ve crossed over on;
To travel along the jubilee road towards our liberation.

Indeed, this raven skin queen reins supreme like no other:
Praise God for the blessing me with this sweet sable saintly mother.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
I sat there staring at the screen
Thinking about lunch
Feeling very lean

I sat there still
Letters taunting me
Staring out the window sill

All I got was Nature staring back
Mocking me completely
I grew so slack

Haiku’s flashed through my head
So short and sweet
Frustrated, I went out to my shed

But narrative poetry that I must
 Haiku’s so less sticky
My heads about to bust

Haiku’s I pressed on
The boss said otherwise
So much I think I might go eat a flan

Who’s this boss?
Master of school and more
Salad she did toss

She who is the bomb
Yet stern as a stone
She is known as my wonderful mom

What shall I ever do
Going through such misery
I shall go watch Winnie the pooh

Going to the big screen
I watched away
But I must return to my previous scene

Back at the small screen I ate a skittle 
Procrastinating much
Thinking little


Finally arriving at the last
I think about Haiku’s
But I actually had a blast

In the yard I see our gnome
Standing there alone
Telling me to end my narrative poem

Copyright © Ben Batman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |
A mother's holiday should be everyday,
To show you the thanks I wish to repay. 

A million word poem could never consist,
Of all that you do - a lifetime of lists. 

So Ill keep it short - a miniature report.
To convey my gratitude for all your support. 

Preparing this thank-you, builds tears in my eyes.
The bulletproof bond we share never dies. 
 
Countless memories we've made as a pair,
Has given me more than I can compare

Your lessons of chivalry I've cherished so dear.
You've molded my heart to love with no fear. 

Your lullaby songs that put me to sleep,
Created a herd of infinite sheep. 

Happy Mother's Day Mom, I hope you enjoy.
Much love from your son, your grown baby boy. 

- Yours Truly

Copyright © Yours Truly | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
I’d save up all of my extra pennies in a shoebox beneath my bed, And each night before I went to sleep I’d spend them in my head. Sometimes I’d spend the whole darned stash on something just for me, But sometimes I’d imagine myself on a less selfish shopping spree. When Christmas came I’d take out the box and count whatever I had, And try to decide how much I could spend on my brothers, mom and dad. Way back then you’d be surprised what you could get for just a buck, Coloring books, marbles and puzzles or maybe a toy pick up truck. My dad would get a tie that could brighten up any room, And for mom there was always a bottle of Walgreen’s best perfume. I could buy a gift for each member of my family for just five ninety-eight, And have enough left over for a Payday bar and go home feeling great. Then I’d wrap the gifts and label them and put them beneath the tree, I’d set them all towards the front so they’d see they came from me. And after they’d opened their gifts and Christmas wishes had all been said, I’d go upstairs and drop a couple of pennies into the shoebox beneath my bed.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry |
Lilly wanted a teddy bear, so her Mom FunkunDilly gave her one.
Lilly kept telling me how she loved it, and was having so much fun.
Though strangely, she was keeping it, at Grandpa Troll’s bridge.
I couldn’t seem to, understand this at all, not even a small smidge.

She didn’t bring it home at night; she didn’t even drag it around.
She only visited it under the bridge, when Grandpa Troll was around.
Finally I ask her why she didn’t bring it home, to tuck it in at night.
She said it was a fragile thing, that couldn’t leave it mama’s sight.

This itself, should have told me it was better, to leave well enough alone.
But I was not the brightest thing, to reason out, what was being done.
So I invited Lilly, and her teddy bear, and all the Trolls, to come on a picnic lunch.
FunkunDilly ask for honey, lots of sushi, cookies, and baby bottles by the bunch.

Grandpa Troll laughed and said he’d come along, to see how this was done.
Sure enough the teddy bear was there… and his mama had ALSO come along.
Gurgling noises came from my mouth, and my hands had a life of their own.
It wasn’t long before I found myself on the ground, as I fainted with a groan.

When I awoke Mama bear was saying  ‘how high strung these human creatures are!’
She won’t hurt my little one? Is she crazy, do you think? OH, is that a chocolate bar?
I tried to regain my composure… as I passed the honey to put on the chocolate bar…
So yes, we had a teddy bear picnic as Lilly’s Teddy and his mom became the stars.

We all discussed the weather, daytime soaps, and how honey works with crumbs, 
Plus how to stop, our precious little ones, from constantly sucking on their thumbs.
Grandpa Troll was laughing about Lilly’s Teddy Bear Picnics for years to come. 
And he thought I had handled it very well… even though at first I had succumbed.

In the end, leave it to a Baby Troll... to have a real Teddy Bear to love and hold...

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
they stay up
to fill the cups
sit by the christmas tree
listen and sing jinglee
its there face  light
that so bright
MOM AND DAD
ON CHRISTMAS EVA NIGHT

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
    Momma went trappin' till noon,
fer Ring Neck Ducks ~ en gone fishin',
        also trappin’ fat coon…
so she was a dragin' er ole’ berlap
full - of game, as well, 'like money in…
'er til' ~ by thee light, of ay full moon...

     Seven siblings doin' chores causin'...
       Momma needed money so soon,
    Grandpa en a Pop'a were a knockin'
   down all those logs - for Coors, quickly

    Momma chasin' chickens, while rescelin'...
in there pen, en a sloppin' with all them hogs,
why she was buzy a slippin' en a slidein'...
into a sink hole, an a trippin' over pa’ pa's logs,
frogs were a jumpin', an a hopin'
   right through her hands...

    While Grandpa was a brewin',
good ale, a good tale fer Kentucky mash...
fer what she longed fer sure,
Momma ney're could save 'er cent of cash,
ner're enough mash-ale fer er dough, unerring
though ~ down to her country-store...

  She went one misty ~ foggy mornin'...
into one of her swamp boats, all traps
all bottle ale, so Momma went a paddlin'...
           certain, per'aps
fer her new pair, so needin’ of them
   ere fancy laced ~ Combat Boots

   “Now remember to call your Mom too”

Copyright © Perry Campanella | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
Today was the big day! I bought a scratch-off ticket two days ago and won $25,000.00! Can
you imagine that? Me, a lonely unemployed nobody, strikes it rich. Yee-Hah! So, I'm off to the
lottery collections agency to cash in my lucky windfall. The polite gentleman handed me
the necessary forms. I feverishly completed them and within 36 minutes was awarded my
check. Wow! Me, a single, unrecognized nobody, is clutching a mild fortune. 
“Zippety-Do-Dah!” Whistling a happy tune, I venture home. Three blocks before reaching my
domicile, I spotted a young lad on the corner of Clark Street and 9th Avenue. He was
sitting on the cold concrete playing with an energetic puppy - yet, he was crying. "Hey,
kid, that's a beautiful puppy you've got." The young boy looked up at me and stammered:
"He's not my puppy, Mister. I found him here in the street a little while ago. The doggie
has no home." My heart skipped two beats. "Where do you live, son?" The tearful boy
crooked his head towards a dilapidated house two lots away from the corner of Clark
Street. I didn't think anyone lived there. I paused for a second and then:

"Hey, Mister? Do you have an extra quarter?" I was speechless for a moment. 
"Excuse me, Mister...um, do you have a dime or a quarter? I have two quarters in my pocket. 
If I get one more I can buy the puppy a can of dog food at the corner store." Containing a smile, 
I lost my breath. I regained my wits and asked: "Would your Mom and Dad approve of you 
having a puppy?" The young lad kept his head down and replied: "Well, my Dad is dead.
But I know my Mom would like this puppy. It's just that my Mom can't walk and, um...
I take care of her and, um...we really wouldn't have enough money to take 
care of a dog, anyways." My heart was breaking. "What's your name son?"
I didn't understand who's tears I was envisioning - his or mine.
"Charlie, Mister." "My name's, Charlie."

(SEE Part 2 OF THE STORY FOR THE ENDING...)

For: Carol Brown
I Hepled The Needy contest
(This is Part I of the story)

Copyright © Kory Calhoun | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry |
Would Joan of Arc be a post office clerk
In the year of two thousand and four?
And Lady Godiver, if we could revive her
Would she mop the kitchen floor?
These heros of history, make my lifestyle a mystery
Such women we shouldn’t ignore

So well in my thirties, with hand cream and nappies
I went down on my knees, despite the dog’s fleas
For a Wonderbra, a fancy new car
And a job that would take me far

Now I’m totally weary, yet it seemed fine in theory
To split myself in two  . . . as you do!
But I feel like a martyr, this lark’s a non-starter
And I blame Bodacea and Germaine Greer
For this deep-rooted need to have a career

Copyright © Susan Barnes | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |
I wake up sittin' on my bed,
I have these thoughts runnin' through my head.
I just cant figure out a way,
of how I'm gonna get through this day.
Oh, come and take my breath away,
I'll never be the same,
I'm not ready for today,
But it's gonna happen... Anyway.
I dont know how to understand,
I dont know whats, happening..
I can't do this on my own... No.
I'm starting to feel like i'm all alone... all alone.
I wake up sittin' on my bed,
I have these thoughts runnin' through my head.
I just cant figure out a way,
of how I'm gonna get through this day.
I need some juice, I need a Jolt!
Or maybe get hit my a lightning bolt!
some things will never be the same.....
Oh, come and take my breath away,
I'll never be the same,
I'm not ready for today,
But it's gonna happen... Anyway.
But it's gonna happen.... Anyway.

Copyright © brandi foote | Year Posted 2013