Best Mamas Poems

( THANKSGIVING AT MAMA`S )

When going to mama’s for Thanksgiving
Your mouth will water for miles away
It’s for eating and a time for forgiving
Before the meal...

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baby robins song
enjoying first solo flight
tracking mamas path...

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I was three the first time i remember 
seeing mamas bedroom walls 
springtime colors on her quilt 
Though it really could of been December 

I...

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Acres of lush emerald meadows
burst forth from pregnant earth,
creating the perfect background for a
dazzling array of wildflowers.
Expectant mothers of beast and fowl
fill the countryside with...

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Back in those heavy times when everything was so far out
Our words were but a whisper, the mans were but a shout
Flower power was spreading,...

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No,you hold the chicken
you hold the duck
you hold the baby;
I'll drive the truck!

  You bring the corn bread
I'll bring the wine
we'll go to Mamas'
and...

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*This silly limerick was inspired by James Fraser.  He often compares himself to an 
eagle and I had an attachment to an owl that...

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THE OLD FART SONG
(sing to the tune of "Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys")

Verse one:

Old men ain't easy to love and...

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Monday morning and it's not boring,
freedom from husbands snoring.
Alarm clock rings, he's off to work,
I sip my coffee with a satisfied smirk.
The sun comes up...

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Ankle wrapped, lipstick gleams
Music is heard in the backbeats of faint rhythms
This is just me, and myself

There are people      ...

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deprived of a father to tell her that her skirts to small
she wore it to hug her hips and rise with every sway in her...

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my heroes have alway's been cowboys
                   ...

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People like spokes of a wheel
Streaming in the church on a Sunday morning hill;
The preacher talks of the prodigal son,
While the gathering ends in a...

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This poem doesn’t want to get written.
It’s fighting with all that it’s got.
Apostrophes, commas,
Their daddies and mamas
Are joining to give it a shot.

I’m dragging each...

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The wall would not hinder my fall,
the tumble i take for memory’s sake.
Childhood sees fairylands, vast —
but as small as a neighborhood lake.
The woods with...

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