Best Birth Poems
The Mother Tree
I am the mother tree that spawned the seeds of you.
My children, you've grown and branched away from me.
You've married, left home to start your life anew.
Where e'er you go remember you're my family.
My roots run very deep into the earthly soil.
My centered rings are many, you may not yet view.
They show the story of my years of work and toil
And of growth and wisdom I've tried to share with you.
As you branch out, your little seedlings too will grow.
You'll try to keep them safe under your canopy.
One day when they grow up and leave, you too will know
The painful pangs of missing branches on your tree.
As they return for advice from their mother tree
Remind them to honor God with humility.
6-13-20
~First Place~ Poem of the Day June 15, 2020~
Non Human Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
She rests beneath her willow’s weeping rain,
As autumn strips them bare behind its theft;
Of slender leaves and tears, they stand bereft,
Yet sorrow, like the wind, begins to wane.
For all that falls to earth won't fall in vain,
And what escapes our sight has not yet left;
Though heavy hearts must carry now this heft,
It's how we know what’s lost to still remain.
And from the tears, the grieving willow weeps,
Its twigs and leaves descend to softened ground,
Reclaimed by earth and soil from which they grew.
For all that's ever buried merely sleeps,
And what we mourn as lost again is found,
When spring returns, and life begins anew.
BIRTH
Once upon a moonlit night
There came a ray of magic light
That shone upon an orphan home
Where two small pumpkins left alone
To thirst and starve to fret and cry
Would spoil at last and surely die
But struck at last by magic’s beam
There came a most fantastic scheme
When a dad and son with paring knife
Cut mouth and eyes to give them life
Their eyes were dark with lifeless stare
Their mouths with fangs beyond compare
Blind and sad the pair and so
Old dad invented candle glow
No longer were they sad forlorn
Jack o lantern fright was born
Dave Austin
Spring Flowers
Opal open clouds let raindrops freely fall
Coaxing coy blossoms of spring to bloom.
Fragrant sweet scents permeate the air.
Snow drops begin the parade as they appear.
It is believed that snow drops originated
When an angel breathed upon a snowflake.
The pansy’s bright *French face in viola shades
Were known to represent a lover’s pursuit
And remembrance of his loyalty and love.
Scilla Siberica with their nodding blue-bell like
Flowers feature a Royal Horticultural status.
Their faint fragrance and hues mesmerize.
Let’s not forget the flowering trees swaying in
Spring’s bucolic breeze where cherry blossoms
Seize our eyes in pink or white with such delight.
Song birds sing their sonorous songs with joy
As snow melts into rivers flow and waves goodbye.
New birth, harbinger of hope arrives in spring.
3-12-22
Spring Showers or Spring Flowers Poetry Premiere Contest~Nineth Place~
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
*The word, pansy is derived from French
language and means ‘thought’.
My thanks to Wikipedia for the photo:
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/38/Scilla_carpet_Alnwick_gardens.jpg
Painting sky before I was born,
Draping my grave in leaf and acorn.
----------------------------
Contest: Crystalline
Sponsor: Rick Parise
11.22.14
Remembering when
Perched high above on rocky crags
Cliffs weathered by times handprints
I saw far and wide to distant shores
Tendrils of desire radiating outwards
Riding the briny mist
Being carried by the breath of the ocean, my constant companion
Hearing the distant voices, the silent tears
The bursts of passion ~ love and loss
I ride the wings of hope and change
Towards the beckoning landscape of
Creation, mystery, and nuance
A vibration fills the air
The quiet chanting of our ancient brothers and sisters
Their words floating in effervescent bubbles
Tinged with melodies so clear
We are one ~ We are here
Let us bathe you in light
Let us heal your wounds
Let us give you hope
We are all mirrors of one another
We share one breath
We are connected like the mycelium under the ground
Our journey is peaceful
Come to us with your pain, your heartache,
Your fear and your loss
We are here to listen
Our ears and hearts are open
You have come to a safe sanctuary to reveal your secrets
Your darkness, your desires, and your bliss
Without judgement
This is a time of renewal
Tiny green hummingbird lays lifeless on the ground
Surrounded by new life
Glittering musical notes sound as
Pink butterflies gather
Gentle wind of wings bringing change
Warm rain falls as we make our way
Through the kaleidoscopes of turquoise, teal, lime and chartreuse
Sunlight reflections
Moss, furry seedlings, and ferns
Intertwine dancing in the shafts of light
A steady illuminated procession
Sweat running down our bodies
We are a train of humanity pushing forward
Through the dense moist jungle
Coming upon a clearing to witness
The newborn baby girl wrapped in velvet greenery
A majestic glowing beacon shining her light
On all of us
Howling
The chatter of monkeys as they scramble down limbs to join us
We feel her heartbeat
We meld into one another seamlessly
Swaying gently in unison
To honor, rejoice and celebrate
Receiving the gift of what it is to be human
Slowly the child is lifted into the air
Aloft on fingertips of joy
The Circle of Life begins
And we return to the simple act
Of loving and giving to one another
Into eternity
Test me
I am willing
To fail
Failure
Is not fatal
At all
All things
Are born to be
Broken
Break free
From the outer
Hard shell
Shells can
Hide the beauty
Within
With love
Flowing freely
We glow
Glowing
For all the world
To see
Seeing
All the beauty
They smile
Smiling
Brings them pleasure
As well
Welling
Up from their soul
A gift
Gifted
To all who are
Shattered
I decided to call this a "Mussetle Train" try one out it is fun.
2 4 2 non rhyming take a word from the end of each stanza(car)
and use a derivative of it to form the premise of the next car in the train.
I am playing with a non rhyming vesion of the Musette form.
The last word of each stanza forms the premise of the next.
“A Flowers Wilt”
Witness the small existence
that abides the beauty of-----------
Freelancers all around,
Just to get a good look.
A baneful abrasion, the flower took
It captivates you -------------
Reels you, steals from you,
WAITING,
Until you pick the right flawless touch.
Dandelions swaying thin,
Here we fall like petals.
Ready to exploit, the beauty of-------
Inhale the fragrance,
Courtyard azure eyes,
Embarking in a wishful eternity,
A crush they become, when loveliness up and left.
A bully against arrogant threw feminine perfumed veils
Tulips waiting for the better auspicious sky
Asters claim the eclipse's,
-dinginess censors it from the brilliance of the sun.
~
A lonely rose
In My Helix World-
The out-and-out are born.
Cries in the dimness,
A sweet Lotus echo
Slight yelps of agony carried off by pollen breeze.
The earth revolves to fast,
Injections of herbal essence in the wind
For a split second, we feel pixie dust
Channel the essential, it fades
Earlier beauty, calmness-
A flourish smile,
Rusk of flower, a bluebird’s bread.
Like candles and dew, they stream and limber energy
Opposing others of its humanity,
Against the command of its importance,
Pierced by its own elegance,
Thriving slowly of its own will,
A short story, gone astray!
Tonight, we plant a tree,
The Flower wilts
The gardener cries
It's hard to describe
that true sense of pride
that comes with the worth
of your babies birth
A child takes your heart
right from the start
and wills you to sow
a love destined to grow
From dress ups to cupcakes
from boo-boos to heartbreaks
it's all worth the pain
from the treasure we gain
Time spent together
can only be measured
in memories we hold
as part of our soul
God keep this life
from turmoil and strife
give it love and care
and blessings to share
For all that we ask
is that we're up to the task
and do all that we must
to honor your trust.
Like a creature hibernating in its burrow
Waiting to come out with the first verdure of spring,
The seed of a poem lay dormant in my heart
Through the long winter awaiting another spring
After staying torpid inside for long,
At a time I expected it the least
Timidly came out the first word,
As shaky as a calf getting up for the first time.
Then another came and word after word in a row
Like pellets of rain on the window pane
I boiled them in the crucibles of my imagination
And finally dipping them in the ocean of my emotions
But rhyme came to set constraints
For the right alignment I struggled
I had to decide on its texture and format
Pondered if it should be a sonnet or an ode
I might have kept the door open for long
Alas! All my words and fancies flew away,
Like birds taking on wings into the sky
From a cage where they were imprisoned for long
I stood so helpless with my mouth shut,
Staring blankly out into the airy nothing
Like one lost in the doorway of his own threshold
Unable to call back those winged words lost in the void
________________________________________
~Placed Fifth~
Submitted for Marathon no.10. Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Mark Toney
~Placed First~
31. March .2022
A Brian Strand Standard
Poetry Contest
dusk
rains hope
perfumed to
quench crestfallen
roses as crickets
susurrate hymns
for a new
tuscan
dawn
We hadn't planned his birth like this...
Taking breaths as I was taught,
the pain dissolved my gallant front
and tears have come from eyes squeezed shut
I heard a voice unlike my own
The room is filled with some concern
I groan, the doctor takes a turn
Quick-fire decision, a swift incision
... a tug, a void,...a cry... a baby born..
The next several hours are a bit of a blur
until everything clears, alone in my room
on sterilized sheets, too stiff, too sleek,
too fragrant of bleach, to think about sleep.
Suddenly, all I can think about is mother
and how different it was for her,
especially, since her young husband was so far away
This miracle I bore, as soft as fine silk,
with tiny closed fists, rose-petal nails
fills me with joy, with relief, I am filled
with a deep pang of grief
for a long ago thief
I can feel the connection, mixed joy, and compassion
I'm bathed in the scent of my brand new beginning ......
But my thoughts stream back to a time long ago
to a hope that ended that I've been told
My mother in bed, after losing her first....
So young, in her bed, without child,........ bleeding red
from the war that she fought, while my Dad fought his own
I cry tears all alone.... for the grief that she owned
as I cherish the breath.....of this babe on my breast
The circle of life, starts with birth .....sometimes, death
_________________________________________________________
3/14/14
Contest: A Hundred In a Row
Sponsor: PD
grace will find you
when thoughts fade away
crushed with unbearable grief
"losing your mind"
suffering during a dark night of the soul
the ego crumbles; revealing the light
your soul consciousness
"finding yourself"
directly experiencing the divine sense of oneness
where everything is connected at a deeper level
there is but one consciousness appearing as many
"awakened"
breathless views are available with inner focus
crossing a chasm with one final leap of faith
you become blissful; radiating like the sun
"experiencing enlightenment"
revived with a new perspective
humans are never perfect
but our pure being is
"love"
Eyes open mine since birth.
An old soul, seeing the world twice.
My mother's smile her mother's smile;
never changes, sadness overwhelms her face, still.
The sun comes, more days than before, but all too familiar.
Different time, but not different faces.
Words are spoken; when mouths were closed;
Same words; same people.
Some may listen, but do they hear?
Many voices, many words to remember.
I been here before, the same, but a faint difference.
You listen when I speak, I listen when you speak.
Ears are opening, faintly hearing.
Slowly are opening mine eyes since birth.
Catherine Johnson Broussard, Poet
Another Soul is in a Storm.
A choice was made for her unborn.
The Haunting Nightmares linger on.
Relentless blame to overcome.
There is no Birthday not Today.
Or ever be to celebrate.
No Gift wrap Presents to enjoy.
No Birthday Cake, Candles, or Toys.
Her heart is Crying out for Him.
"Forgive Me Son for I have Sinned."
An Unheard Voice She'll never hear.
Just the sound of her fallen Tears.
Michael Tor