Best Mums Poems
Mums Kitchen.
If I went back to the house of my childhood days,
I'm sure I'd see mum in the kitchen, as my eyes start to glaze.
Busily moving pots and pans from the stove to the sink,
I would hold onto that vision afraid just to blink.
Her blue and white apron all covered in flour,
preparing food and baking hour after hour.
Just hand written notes, no need for a recipe book,
Things made so many times she'd barely need to look.
I would sit at the table and into the kitchen I'd stare,
watching mum work away making such delectable fare.
The aroma's and smells that would waft through the house,
I'd breathe deeply and pretend that they entered my mouth.
There would be pasties laid on and the apple pie of your dream,
lamingtons, jelly cakes both all covered in cream.
cloud soft sponge cakes and chocolate chip bickies,
Mum made cooking look easy but was really quite tricky.
Mum would bring me some tea and load up a plate,
I wouldn't care about sugar or worry about weight.
Eating to my fill and my mouth gets the drools,
Then I would say, "Mum, your kitchen rules".
Mum was on the phone again when I woke up today,
When I called her name she shouted "go away!"
I just want to play with mum that is all I need,
she's to busy on face book and checking her news feed.
Mum can you play with me I am busy and all alone,
she answered "stop your moaning can't you see I am on the phone"?
Mum your child needs you I am only four,
you tell me off for nagging and sit me on the floor.
you walk me to school with your head in your phone,
I know it will be the same as soon as I get home.
When were walking home I look up to you to speak,
but your heads in your phone just like it's been all week.
I sit down when we are home a tear in my eye,
You say "what's wrong with you all you do is cry"?
I wish I could explain but I am only four,
Mum I really love you but you love your phone more.
I said those words out loud wanting you to hear,
I see you put your phone down i shed another tear.
I felt a little shocked when you came over to play,
we coloured in my book can we do it every day?
I wont be a child for long I won't always be four
soon I'll be an adult a child I'll be no more.
spend time with your child don't let them feel alone,
when I woke next morning mums head was in her phone.
It was good while it lasted the little play we had,
now Im left home and have a little lad.
Mum you missed me being a child because your head was in your phone,
I know what parent i will be not always on my phone!
Anxiously waiting trying not to clock watch
Baleful noise breaks the silence,
Calmness disappears,
Distraught, sons first school day
Excitement as flying body flings himself at her, at home time
Penned October 1 2017
Contest : Sara Kendrick ....let's do some alphabet
Based on own friends ordeal
Mum’s The Word on Father's Day
Hey DAD I didn’t forget you
I remembered I forgot
That’s just how it goes these days
my own kids I have got
It’s the way you brought me up
I didn’t have to think
Until the day you kicked me out
told me “Swim or Sink”
My kids will never forget me
though it's just a bit of fun
I would let them off with it
but they are told by MUM
life
new forms
flower seeds
pressed inside earth
peppered with color
they blossom in full view
fragrant tender petals
bending in the wind
white butterflies
dance upon
the mums
life
August 17, 2021
Is it any wonder that we want to scream and shout
but we hold it in so nicely, too scared to let it out,
running ragged round the clock, and slightly round the bend,
there's washing, ironing and dishes, whenever will it end.
Pulling on a rubber glove, straightening up a chair,
taking out the rubbish, clearing a plughole full of hair,
hoovering the carpet, another sticky bit of glue,
new drawings on my paintwork,
mind you its a very nice shade of blue!
Cleaning muddy footprints off the kitchen floor,
scrubbing chocolate fingerprints covering the door,
dusting all the pictures of the family i adore,
see its not that great a wonder,
because its never been a chore.
From the mother of all mothers
tongue tied
to a tree
naked
5/3/2019
Navel Gazing
Liberum Divisa Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Gregory Barden
my mother accused me of intentions I didn’t know were there
and punished me accordingly though I was unaware
I think she only understands what females say and do
boys would never think that way but she ain’t gotta clue
Boys don’t do the nasty things that little girls will do
boys confront up front and blunt and do not think it through
when men clash they fight the fight it’s physical abuse
but women will manipulate and spread a lie or two
Boys don’t play the mind games that my mother thought I did
so how can you respect her when she’s clearly quite stupid
when my father got involved he showed me he understands
and that relatability could only come out of a man
if you have never been a boy then you haven’t got a clue,
you might be a mum but being male was never you,
so never think your sons intentions match your point of view
you might accuse him of things boys would never do
And every time you do that he’ll think less of you
OK,
what if
my Mom was
right and I won’t
be happy ‘til someone
actually does lose an eye.
Is that what’s been missing?
This weekend is Mothers Day in South Africa
So my niece Schade decided to send my Mum
A lovely bunch of flower's and a Hamper
They arrived on Friday
And she hasn't stopped smiling and crying
Since she received them
They say its not the actual gift but the thought behind it that matters
And watching my Mum in sheer bliss
Proved that fact beyond a shadow of a doubt
Its was not the gift she actually loved
Just the fact Schade had though about her
If anyone out there reading this can take the time
To do anything for someone they Love
Do it if not for themselves then do it for yourself
Its the greatest gift you can give both of you
Love is sharing
Love is caring
Dare to Love
I grow colorful, pretty poppies in springtime,
And in fall, my lovely chrysanthemums shine!
In my cheerful garden, I have only these two,
And some even emerge in exotic shades of blue.
Two very beautiful flowers, of such myriad colors,
Are pleasant obsession, with no need for others!
My mums are old-fashioned dark red, to fluffy pink,
And my poppies range from white, to black as ink.
More pans to wash …
More pans to wash!!!
They come umpteen times a day.
My hands are chapped,
My back is crook’d
I wish they’d go away.
But when they’re dry and shiny, sitting neatly on their shelves
My thoughts can turn to what comes next -
Some tasty treat, no longer vexed
I now ‘create; and undertake
Pie, bun, roast a glorious cake?
Foods to soothe the ravening beasts
My pans cook up some wondrous feasts.
Mellowing muted miraculous memories,
mildly mannered, meticulously minted
manly mirrored, mostly mastered
messages, massaging misleading
Manson Mongoloid measures, minus
milktoast Mozart minuet membership
monotone manuscripts, manipulating
many manakin malignant mind melds.
Might mindful micro mineral mankindedness
marvel my molecular madness mediating
medicinal meditative metronome
mattresses manipulating magnum
malevolent maelstrom monstrosities?
Mother mayI?
I’m the lady with a big bum
A man offered quite a sum
Of money to play
With my bum he’d pay
Until I reached out to his mum
Dearest Mummy you came for a calling
In my tears at night when I was crying
Every memory of you inside of me dying
Determined to remember your smiles
~ I'll never forget our little whiles. Together.
In all the years we sat on fears
Keeping our secrets in silent tears
And in all the Times we never spoke,
I learned to grow up in the silence of love.
~ Now I listen to your voice from above.
I wonder why I can hear your eyes,
Still keeping secrets about our lives.
And why is it now that you've come to say
You've changed my name, Again this day.
~ How many more to come this Way...?
Dearest Mummy I know the Word.
What I don't understand, is why I've heard.