Best Mother Son Poems | Poetry

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As Flowers Crumble Collaboration with Silent One

Lullabies through tear filled eyes
It's truly, love at first sight
The bond is forged and galvanized
To hold forever tight

Each time you needed a hand
She always had one free
From then on, when in demand
As soft as she needed to be

No sacrifice was too great
A patient answer to every, "why?"
That look when you came home late
When you didn't come home, she'd cry

As flowers begin to crumble
your eyes look tired and hands so frail
Breaks my heart to see you stumble
as tears fall with your skin so pale

No one can ever take your place
nor replace your angelic love 
Your life is full of prestige grace
precious beauty like a white dove

Mum's sweet words flow like a fountain
such wisdom will always live on
Her love conquers the highest mountain
fills me with pride to be her son

    July 4 2017 
 Collaboration By Daniel Turner and Silent One

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

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So young, I was, and so naive There was no doubt, I did believe this babe who's latched inside my womb with ties we had,... would always be Latched on was he, as he was fed then later days, our hands instead Not tall enough to open gates I would reach the latch for his escape In time he grew to need more space The cord we had, still had it's place The loving ties from birth, so long were gently stretching.., moving on, yet still remaining full and strong In time he grew, to be a man Our bond had changed, but still lives on He fell in love, as it should be His bond with her, I'm glad to see doesn't mean our own is gone Songs are sung when lovers part but no song for a mother's heart When new adventures come one day and new roads take him far away The man he is, has been set free to be the man he wants to be The child he was is never gone She's letting go, yet holding on If once, one wish, were mine to choose so many would my thoughts pursue But one within my heart still yearns for just one day, the clocks would turn Together you and I would be sitting there among the trees I would lift you up upon my knee just as we did when you were three…
___________________________________________________________________ For Francine's Contest: Children In Rhyme

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2011

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Garden of mum

Mum sat in her aromatic garden,
admiring its charm and grace.
It was a cold morning,
but mum never seemed to feel it any more.

Her eyes were tired, life's adversities had taken their toll,
yet the smallest things filled them with joy.
Like the perennial ivory lilies blossoming
among her loyal, royal forget-me-nots.
The tranquil scents of lilac lavender, 
blooming among radiant Jerusalem sage, 
always made her smile.

Her hands were wrinkly, but resilient,
despite years of hard work as a single mother.
Still strong enough to tend to her grandiose display
of ruby red, aureolin yellow and puce pink roses.
Mum always told me the thorns were like knights -
there to protect the rose's fragility. 
That a woman is a man's most precious flower, 
requiring tender care and appreciation.

Evergreen conifers parade along the perimeter of
my lovely mother's garden, like a colony of soldiers,
protecting a beautiful, yet delicate, 
Japanese cherry blossom tree.

Mum always told me it reminded her about life,
how everything was temporary, just like its fragile buds,
that only blossomed in the spring and 
how the lightest breeze blew them away.

Mum taught me so much and was my inspiration,
picked me up when I was defeated, 
taught me that only in defeat do we learn.
When the world tried to change me, 
taught me to accept myself,
to love myself before I could love others 
and be true to who I am.

As I sat with mum admiring the beauty of the seeds sown,
melancholic tones flooded my emotions, 
wondering how I would cope without her.

Was I selfish wishing to die before her, 
so I would not have to mourn for her,
but it would be so heartbreaking 
for her to mourn for me.

My contemplation was interrupted by an outbreak of rain.
Mother simply smiled and said: 

"Rain is mercy from God, my son." 

Written 26 February 2016

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018

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On My Mother Passing

ON MY MOTHER’S PASSING i wanted to keep my mother physically with me but it would be like trying to hold the sun like in life she still shines brighter than any star is as gentle as the finest breeze she isn't gone my mother is infinite hers was a metamorphosis like the butterfly represents eternal beauty flies to heights unimaginable to the human mind butterflies are free and so is she she was a wife a mother a sister a friend she was the best of all those roles she was because she chose to be but she was then she is now she will always be free such was her nature we all knew her as that special person could embrace your heart we also knew she was all but she was one you can't own that kind of beauty and her shine filled you with a euphoric joy she was she is like the moon the one belongs to children belongs to love at its very core love she spreads across the universe my mother was is will always be as large as unconditional love i share this story with you in order to comfort you her influence is immense she is now looking after us all be happy, be confident be at peace my mother is with us all and my mother is love armand .................................................................................................
An Added Bonus (My Parents Always Enjoyed My Imagination For Both Of Them I include This Piece) DISGUISED IDIOMS & EVERYTHING “JAZZ” for you i’d lay down the red and plush give you the shirt I’m wearing walk a mile and then one more hand you the key to my beet red beat commit all my eggs to your stash throw in nine yards the whole of it tell you with no shame “i’m at your beck...just call” no need to do mine turn around I’ll scratch yours i’m yours all my parts even a parcel all of it ‘till the cattle arrive’ Armand ‘aren’t you the clever boy’ Yvonne ..................................................................... Another piece if your in the mood. If not off you go then. BENEATH THE WHINING scaled the walls every time nothing nothing on the other side found the doors their locks never the keys paid my dues never got a receipt every time i fell got back up followed the light always took the noble path stepped barefoot on jagged rocks autographed the stones in blood -mine from great heights lost my hold landed on my feet regret occupies the larger part of my thoughts sometimes i cried even yelled my infamous screams my life it turns out was blessed having accomplished none of my goals i lived an existence i alone could appreciate underneath the layers of self inflicted scars i found a me i loved and respected i need nothing more armand ........................................................................... I UNDERSTAND THE DIFFERENCE. RECOGNIZE ONE FROM THE OTHER. while the evil mind trods awkwardly wears swamp covered boots destroys indiscriminately inner beauty dances in partnership a benevolent synchronized waltz minds adorned in a growing blue green moss nurture strong thick deep roots transfer nutrients lovingly to the breathing heart their silent strength in turn energizes a body of good spread like lavender scented clover over a barren land flow like oxygen cleanses polluted waterways worldwide calms the unsteady unpredictable weather patterns of recent times a new is born and not a life animal vegetable human not any life harmed such is the outcome the collective power of inner beauty armand ........................................................................................ FOR YOU MY LOVE a human heart beats over a hundred thousand times a day the first one hundred thousand every day beat for you armand ........................................................................................................ A SIMPLE SUGGESTION I know my heart is made of butter but you can only spread it so thin armand ........................................................................................................ DISNEY WOULD BE PROUD a blue tree covered in spaghetti branches drenched in a sauce of leaves with no desire to be served up in an Italian restaurant where a lady or a tramp or both might end up in a passionate kiss with an orchestra providing the background ambiance no, this navy colored tree is too busy chumming around with the sky and the odd passing cloud thinking back when it was just an acorn now the tallest the most majestic growth in the forest still never forgetting its roots once just a single seed humbled by its origin dearly loved by the Earth no, more -by the universe comfortable in its greatness happy as just one piece of something much greater a gentle giant at peace with its existence wait, was that Bambi and Thumper just ran by it the giant smiles armand ................................................................................................... ONE CENT ALLEY drove us to a magical mystery go see “there's nothing you can's easy all you need is love” so we latched on to a mustard coloured submarine "something in the way..." walked down a british road "and in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make" armand ................................................................................................. A PROPOSAL a sheet of paper printed slats of wood measured extra thick rope strong large fat nails steel a set of tools exact a driven will instinctive and there you have it a bridge perhaps we can meet in the middle armand

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2018

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I Forgive You

     You lost my life.
     Sharp as a knife...
     You lost a lot of things.
     Your memory in my heart
     Still sings...

Today I gave you my secrets,
All of them, the ones from Egypt,
And those from Europe, slow motion
Swimming away across the Ocean.
I whispered in your ear
All you didn't want to hear.
     I forgive you,
     I forgive you.

The secrets of the life stolen
While you screech, eyes swollen
With tears of loss.
Both of us kneeling on moss;
I am not cruel, only want your love,
That one word you get so sick of.

     I will always forgive you,
     I will always forgive you.

Buried so deep inside,
Almost a stone I tried to hide.
I'll always be that seeking child
That wants to be reconciled.

     I lost you before I was born.
     Before I even opened my eyes

          I was forlorn.


April 8, 2017 
N/A in contest: Open Poetry Contest 2
Sponsored by: Charlotte Jade Puddifoot

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

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Looking at your misshapen little red face,
only a mother can appreciate the beauty when seeing her
very precious baby for the first time. 
Eyes filled with happy tears as I
looked at your blonde hair and blue eyes and
inspected your tiny little fingers and toes.
Never had I seen a more beautiful child –
everything about you was simply perfect!
Soon you were sleeping peacefully,
safe in the arms of your adoring mother.

Contest: Loveliness Acrostic
Sponsor John Hamilton

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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Whispers From Beyond

Listening for whispers from beyond the grave. 
So hard to hear for the mortality slave. 
Wind blows a chill thru the winters trees. 
Hands clasped in prayer I'm on my knees. 
Denial on my lips disbelief in my heart. 
Scared and alone my world torn apart. 
A pastor speaks standing beside you. 
I know you're gone but don't want it to be true. 
Who are these strangers standing around. 
Inch by inch you're lowered into the ground. 
Everyone says, " I'm so sorry for your loss. "
Can't they see I'm on an ocean that I can't cross. 
If I close my eyes and listen really hard. 
I can hear you say, " go play but stay in the yard."
Memories hurt Mom and I don't want to cry. 
Please don't go I don't want you to die. 
I know I can't stop it there's nothing I can do. 
You'll just have to live on in my memories of you. 
Now I have to find a way to be strong and brave. 
Keep listening for whispers from beyond the grave.

Written on 3/24/16

Copyright © Scott Williams | Year Posted 2016

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I’m staring at the reflection in the mirror - who is the lady with the grey hair? Today a strange man came to visit me I do not recognise him … He says he is my son I try hard to remember as we talk about the past He shows me photographs of his childhood years Memories come back to me; I sob bleeding tears Dementia is robbing me, my recall is fading fast That man has now gone Saying he will visit soon Tears flow from my eyes Trapped in my own little world I sit sobbing silently Kimo and Tanka checked with how many syllables Challenge one write Contest Sponsored by Broken Wings 08~31~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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Letter To Mom

Dear Mother,
Conceived in love, your passion gave me life
The very blood this heart pumps through these veins
A dream fulfilled as mother and as wife
I wonder now, if I was worth your pain

I did not walk the path you set me on
The gifts you gave to me are still like new
My body, I abused, A wasted pawn
I sang my song, performed my own soft shoe

But each thing I have done, I gave my all
Regardless of the deed, I did my best
I never asked you once to break my fall
Nor steal the grass or twigs that line your nest

At times in life, I know I've made you cry
Your passion, is my only alibi

                by Daniel Turner

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

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For nine long long months I longed to greet you We’ll if I’m perfectly honest … You were so snug in your home you stayed for an extra ten days! I had waited patiently for your arrival and couldn’t wait to hold you in my arms Finally the day arrived and I discovered they don’t call it labour for nothing … It was damn hard work! But twenty-four hours later you arrived in the world I guess every mother thinks her child is the most beautiful You were gorgeous! With fine downy blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes I counted your tiny fingers and toes You were absolutely perfect Later that evening I sat in a comfy chair to feed you Looking out of the window I saw soft snowflakes swirling It was so so beautiful tears started to fall Now, whenever I see snowy scenes I think of you my precious son 12~08~16 Mr Fondest memory Contest Sponsored by Frank Herrera

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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I fell in love with you the second you were born With light brown hair and sapphire blue eyes I thought you were perfect! Over time it became evident that there was a problem Test after test showed that you had profound autism You didn’t reach your milestones like other babies There was no babbling; no social smiles only a vacant look in those huge sapphire blue eyes You were locked in your own little world just content lying in your cot playing with your fingers As you grew older you found comfort sitting rocking on the floor You hated physical contact; if anyone tried to hug you you’d go rigid Arms remained straight by your side like a soldier on parade It’s been so difficult to come to terms with the fact You will never say “I love you momma” or let me into your heart Fictional write for Let me into your heart contest Sponsored by Julie Rodeheaver 08-20-17

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017

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When Darkest Of Blues Will Not Stop Pounding

When Darkest Of Blues Will Not Stop Pounding

Standing atop this high cliff, clouds floating on by
Watching last sunset, red-tint paint splashing blue sky
Now finding life, has stooped to beat me up again
Despite my deep courage, embraced through thick and thin
No honor felt in this lost state I am at
Broken wrangler with no horse, no damn cowboy hat
Just a dying soul, trying to live to hold on
Now that the beauty of life's colors have all gone 
Weeping into winds once found to be clear and fair
Missing that love, only mother and child can share
Glancing down, life and earth seems so damn far below
So many exits, yet I have nowhere to go 

Standing atop this high cliff, clouds floating on by
Watching last sunset, red-tint paint splashing blue sky

Robert J. Lindley, 2-17-2017

Note; One day gleaming sun does so shine. Next day it hides and laughs in wicked glee.
There is now a huge hole in me. I wish to drown, in the next storm in this dark, raging sea.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

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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

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Looking back to memories bright,
I remember she’d teach me wrong from right.
“Clean your plate.  There are others who have none.”
“Do your homework, and let me know when you’re done.”
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Save your money for a rainy day.”
“It’s beautiful outside, so go out and play.”
“Let me show you how to clean and cook.”
“If you’re really bored, you can read a good book.”
“Don’t you know that I was young once, too?”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Take some time to read this book, son.
I think it’s time you know where they come from.”
“Girls are spice and everything nice.”
“If you’re smart, you’ll take my advice.”
“You don’t have to do as others do.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“My grandfather gave us all we would need.
When spring rolled around he would plant seed.
He shot game and lived off the land.
He wasn’t afraid to make a stand.
You could learn a few things from him, too.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“I used to walk a mile to school.
It won’t hurt you to walk a little, too.”
“Do your chores and be nice to your sister.”
“Address adults as Misses or Mister.”
“Do you know that I love you?”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Why do you want to be in a rock and roll band?”
“Be a leader.  Lend a helping hand.”
“How old is she?  What is her name?
Do you care for her deeply?  Does she feel the same?”
“Where have you been?  I was worried about you!”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“How many hours?  How much does it pay?
Think of your future.  In school you should stay.”
“Do you have food?  You’ve lost a lot of weight.”
“Be on time.  You shouldn’t be late.”
“Did you get the letter that I sent you?”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“You’re too young to get married.  Won’t you wait till later?
Yes, I think she’s nice.  No, I don’t hate her.”
“You need a good job.  Where will you live?”
“How much do you need?  How much can I give?”
“Isn’t life great when love is new?”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“I’m going to be a grandma?!!  You must be joking!”
“How’s the job going?  Are you still smoking?”
“We’re all fine.  How is she?
I was foolish to think she’d replace me.
Tell her that I’m thinking of her, too.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“You sound funny.  Are they all right?
How long was she in labor?  Was it a long night?
She’ll be okay.  She just needs time to heal.
You’ll be a good father.  When was your last meal?
Give her my love, and to the baby, too.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Tell her not to fuss.  I won’t be a bother.
I remember a few things.  You were once a toddler.
The living room is fine.  You sleep in your own room.
I’ll get her some groceries.  Where does she keep her broom?
It was nice seeing you.  I’ll miss you, too.
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“They’re growing like weeds.
I wish you weren’t so far away.”
“Pay attention to your wife . . .
A good husband doesn’t stray.”
“Call me if you need someone to talk to.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Get you some stocks, bonds, or an IRA.
If you stuff it under the mattress, that’ll be okay.
You must think of their future . . . and yours and hers, too.
It’ll take planning to see it all through.
Don’t worry about me, son.  I’ve planned some, too.”
Yes, Mother . . . I hear you.

“Are you happy, boy?  It’s important that you are.
There’s more to life than a career or a new car.”
“I’m proud of you and of who you’ve become.
You’re all that I dreamed of and even more, son.
But tell me the truth.  Did I ever get through?
Did you ever listen when I was talking to you?”

Yes, Mother . . . I listened.  I even took your advice.
In many of my choices, I didn’t have to think twice.
I haven’t always been as good as I could be.
There were times that I was glad you weren’t there to see.
Of one thing I’m certain . . . you passed a lot on.
You taught me to be caring, happy, and strong.
Your thoughts are with me in all that I do.
Yes, Mother . . . I heard you.

Copyright © Mike Shoemaker | Year Posted 2016

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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
Gautami Phookans Contest:
The Sweetest Touches of Verse

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

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Elizabeth's Throne

Elizabeth’s Throne You still sit on England’s grand throne! For sixty plus years crown you own! Your subjects all wait— Will you abdicate? Will Charles make it to the King zone? © Sandra M. Haight 2015 All Rights Reserved ~1st Place Contest: Long Live the Queen Sponsor: Judy Konos Judged: 06/06/2015

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

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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"

And for Contest: Personal Best of 2016
Sponsored by Frank Herrera

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

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Polly got Words

Polly got words

He was five and going to start school.
His name was Paul, but everyone called him Polly.
He had only one interest and that was anything with wheels.
His mom knew that other kids his age new their letters and the alphabet.
Polly got bored fast when it came to learning the letters and had no interest in them at all.
He would play for hours with his hot wheels cars, clutched in his hands when he fell asleep.
His mom fretted over this, for after summer, he was to start kindergarten.
She had an idea of how he could learn his letters using cars.
She bought twenty six shiny, new hot wheels cars.
The roof each car she wrote a letter.

It was simple.
She said, this is the A car
When it starts it goes AAaaaaah
And this is the D car
When it starts it goes Dididididi
And this is the R car
When it starts it goes RrrrrRrrrrrr

He learned to recognize the letters and their sounds.
Creative parenting had succeeded wonderfully, and 
Polly got words

Sept 21, 2016

Copyright © Tanis Troutman | Year Posted 2016

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Last goodbye son it’s time for you to go
Every emotion was there on show
Trying to put on a brave face
Tears were falling; it’s no disgrace
It was time for you to fly the nest
Now time for you to show your best
Going away to study in the UK
God speed to send you safely on your way
Over the seas so so far away 

It seems like five minutes since you were born Now its time for you to spread your own wings I waved you off on that September morn I’m so proud of you son that my heart sings You’re leaving the nest Time to cut the apron strings Fly high my darling Contest Letting Go Three Form Style - Sponsored by Laura Loo 04~02~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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Why the Rose Bled

Parents so proud Four sons they raised From the Highlands of Scotland In the pre-war days On their crofts they worked Morning till night Unknown to them then Of a future fight The Germans have invaded A country so free Poland was taken The world shaken visually Britain declares war As our men enlist To rid the enemy As the fighting shifts Europe's engulfed In a feverish war Many are dying To comprehend what for The four brothers Sign up to fight As a mother will pray Every night Campaigns they fight In these theatres of war Witnessing horrors Never seen before In their garden at home On the family crofts A bed of roses With petals so soft Then one day With a passing glance A pink rose dripping red In deathly stance Their mother turns To the gate she looks Telegram in hand From the postman she took With trembling hands She opens with care Upon reading the message In tear laden stare Their eldest son In Africa was lost As many many others Deaths global cost Every day As she passes the rose It's pink petals bloom Her tomorrow's fear grows .

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2014

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Why The Passion of the Christ


                                       As I follow the footsteps of my son
                                       My heart breaks at every word said
                                                     against Him

                                                     Why?  Why? 
                                         As my tears run down my face
                                  I vision,  tenderly cradling him in my arms
                                               when he was young

                                                       Why? Why?
                                          Does it have to be this way?
                              They only loved and worshiped Him yesterday 
                 What has happened in just a day to make everyone hate him so?

                                                     Why? Why?
                       As I take every step behind him watching him suffer so
            My legs want to fold underneath me of the pain in my heart for my son
                           For every blow he takes, for every time he falls

                                                      Why? Why?
                                      My eyes swell and my nose runs
                                from the suffering that my son is enduring
                and I am not allowed to get near him to comfort him in my arms

                                                       Why? Why?
                                            Please, let his suffering end
                  I can’t bear it any longer watching Him being nailed to the cross
                             I know it was meant to be, for our redemption 

                                                     Why? Why?
© Eve Roper 3/21/2015

Mary, witness to suffering with love and faith in "The Passion of the Christ"

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2015

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Mother May I

Mother may I 
Go out and play
My child
Have you cleaned your room today

Are your toys packed away
in your toy chest with care
Yes mother yes 
its all in there

Did you make your bed 
like i showed you how
yes mother yes
may I go now

Yes son yes
after a brief inspection
son shakes his head
not what I was expecting

Never-mind mother
I'm going to my room
oh by the way
can you hand me the broom?

Copyright © Lisa Bailey | Year Posted 2012

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There once was a lady named "Mom"
Who had a hard time keeping calm.
But she knows how to sew
And garden and mow
And she's a farmer on

She's a grandma to Mel and Harmony
She's a young wife for "Gramps" who's 70! 
She calms the waters
Of her four lovely daughters
And best of all she puts up with me.

Copyright © Jason Talbott | Year Posted 2011

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Words spring out from under the cover Lets delve together into a world A place of magic like no other Where imaginations are unfurled A tale of fantasy and fun Where bubblegum trees touch the sky Animals talk when out in the sun And purple elephants can fly We picture the scenes in our mind’s eye Let our creativity go wild Floating freely like a butterfly Precious time for a mother and child Contest A Nook and a story Book. Sponsor Eve Roper 04 ~17 ~16

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

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Maternal Anguish

Written for my heart, my son, Kyle
Wash me gentle in the river – Ease me on down with care. I’m an emotional giver – It’s my song in the air. Dry me smooth upon shore’s sliver - Warm away my despair. Constant tears are in my eyes, But I’ll deny that I cry. God loves me inside and out, He knows what I’m all about, But I can’t settle the shout That sticks down inside my throat And threatens to choke me dry. Emotions lacking corners Have only circle borders And trap me in feelings bleak. Searching answers to know order Leaves me sadly limp and weak. First I prayed, but now I rage: Oh, dear God, please turn this page. World, you allowed darkness, With its brutal hurtful hiss, To maim the child life of his. Harsh cruelness such as this Brought me to my knees With a Mother’s enraged pleas. Wash me gentle in the river – Ease me on down with care. I’m an emotional giver – It’s my song in the air. Dry me smooth upon shore’s sliver - Warm away my despair. ... CayCay Jennings February 21, 2016 / 1997

Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2016