Long Homemaker Poems
Long Homemaker Poems. Below are the most popular long Homemaker by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Homemaker poems by poem length and keyword.
DRAWN TO THE MOON
Hello up there! I am always drawn to you and
every time I gaze at you, you are so mystifying.
A goddess looking down with a bemused smile.
Like a mysterious woman, bewitching, beguiling.
Your gender is supposed to be neutral in English.
Yet, you give the aura of feminine or yin energy.
Your light is bright; but tender like a night light
in the dark for a child to sleep through the night.
Unlike the sun’s light that becomes harsh, strong
and sometimes unbearable and can also be brutal.
Like Helios and Apollo, the strong Greek sun gods.
You on the other hand personify Luna, a goddess.
How can you not, you can change your shape being
full, crescent, first quarter, last quarter; like a woman
being a wife, mother, daughter, worker or homemaker.
So as your full moon names that change every month.
You represent powerful feminine energy and you are
the most poetic symbol for poetry and literature, the
symbol instilled by divine power to a feminine object
to show, imply, denote or express love and lovesickness.
Your bright light is so magical, bewitchingly putting
lovers under your spell for those moonlight kisses.
8/3/21 Is The Moon Male or Female Or Both Poetry
Chantelle Anne Cooke
HOLDING BACK TEARS
Being a single mother is rarely appreciated,
when it is a very demanding, challenging, complex
responsibility to take on and carry on for years.
Who wants to be a single mother? I chose to.
Couples marry to be together and start a family
and do not think, want divorce or separation.
Yet, couples grow apart, change, unable to adapt
to situations, problems arising in having a family.
So, some ends up being a single mother like me
instead of staying married to a problematic
spouse or in a troublesome, exasperating, taxing
relationship, not a good example for the children.
Single parenting is very difficult for it is physically,
emotionally, mentally draining, exhausting. Tough!
You just bite the bullet and keep on going, doing the
best you can as the breadwinner and the homemaker.
You are on your own to face whatever comes your way
in maintaining the house, putting food on the table,
the children’s education, teen-agers rebellions or
defiance on top of your own emotional roller coaster.
Yet, you show a poker face and you hold back tears
for you want the children to know you are strong,
resilient, cannot be broken, being there for them
and will always be there to support and console.
The reality is you are breaking down, falling apart
inside, feeling all alone and holding back tears,
when all you wanted is somebody, someone to hold
you tight and whisper “Everything will be all right”.
I look back on those years of being a single mother,
years of holding back tears that turned my heart
into a stone for when my daughter calls on Father’s
Day telling me “Happy Father’s Day”, I cannot cry.
I cannot even shed a tear of happiness knowing
she regards me as a mother and a father. Charming!
How I wish I could. What happened to my diminutive
heart? Why is it still holding back tears? Don’t know!
8/18/21 This Or That, Vol 5 Poetry
Edward Ibeh
Chose: Holding Back Tears
In the beginning when the Godhead decided a new race to create,
He made Adam and Eve and gave them the ability to procreate.
With God as Creator and Adam as father,
Eve was destined the nations of the world to mother.
The serpent so subtle and cunning caused Eve to sin,
And in that very moment the consequence of dying did begin,
As punishment God said Adam’s life would be toilful,
And the process of childbirth for Eve would be painful.
Eve was so elated when she gave birth to her firstborn son Cain,
But little did she know that he would be the cause of much pain.
Soon after she birthed her second son named Abel,
He God’s command did obey, but against God Cain did rebel.
When God refused his offering, he let anger boil up in his head,
And when it was all over his brother Abel was dead,
Even as his birth brought joy to his mother Eve,
His violence against his brother caused her heart to grieve
Though our mothers the perfection of Eve do not possess,
We their children throughout our lives must confess,
They surely inherited all her maternal qualities,
As evidenced by our mothers’ numerous abilities.
They carry us for nine months often in great discomfort,
Then have to endure the physical torture of childbirth,
After we are born a lifetime nurture and caring commences,
Often in the face of numerous obstacles and sundry offences.
The roles mothers perform are too many to number,
Nurse, wife, chef, chauffeur, broken heart mender,
Psychologist, teacher, activist, referee, entertainer, nutritionist,
Alchemist, gardener, homemaker, law enforcer and home economist.
When God the family did establish and roles for its members did assign,
A special role for mothers he did wisely design,
This multifaceted role which required such skill could be filled by none other,
Than the indefatigable, amazing person we simply call mother.
So, on this day devoted to the honor of mothers,
We pay tribute to the ones who spend their lives caring for others,
Whether they are alive or dead,
We will never let the memory of them fade from our head.
B Bloom Bootiful, Beautiful, Beatified, Blessed, Book Loving, Beis Neeman
L Likeable, Ladylike, Laughing, Learned, Listener
I Inimitable, Inquisitive, Inquiring, Interested, Interesting
M Matronly, Mothering, Mentoring, Mature, Middos Good, Matters
A Amiable, Attractive, Artistic, Adventurous, Articulate, Accountable
Y Yes full, Yearning, Yoga Lover & Loose, Yoghurt Pure White
E Edible, Erudite, Earnest, Educated, Enticing, Energetic, Eyes Green, Electric
H Humble, Honest, Hardworking, Homemaker, Heartful, Homey Heimish Honey
I Innkeeper Hachnasus Orchim, Irrigator with Tears
D Discoverer, Dreamer, Day Maker, Dutiful, Dresser Extraordinaire
I Individual, Inventive, Iridescent
S Spontaneous, Special, Super Star, Sure Thing, Safe Bet, Sagacious, Supernal, Spiffy, Spic N Span, Soothsayer, Seer of Obscure, Scrumptious, Tsinus, Soothing, Sleeper Olympic, Step Up, Secret, Spiritual, Soulful, Singing, Soaring, Something Else, Sympathy Provider, Shalom Beis Maker, SAS Patron, Sew Fabulous
Mom was only twenty-eight when she moved in this house in 1977,
And she lived here until she moved to Sneedville, Tennessee in 2011.
Mom was beautiful at twenty-eight and she was still beautiful at sixty-four.
She would still be beautiful today but sadly, she isn't with us anymore.
When I was growing up, mom was a stay-at-home mom and that made me glad.
She devoted her time to her family instead of a job and that might make feminists mad.
But I'm happy that she was a homemaker because I was able to spend more time with her.
If I'm asked to give Mom a rating on a scale of one to ten, a ten is what I'll be proud to give her.
[Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away at the age of 64 on March 6, 2013.]
It's not easy to live with every day problems,
Especially when someone expects you to solve them,
The minute that trouble has raised up it's head,
And balance the budget and make home made bread;
And making and keeping appointments and errands,
While setting a shining example as parents.
Sometimes I just wish I could go back to bed,
And dream a sweet dream and wake up instead,
To find I can take a day off to relax,
Perhaps read a book and not feel so taxed;
'Cause the house work will be there tomorrow for sure,
And I don't have to worry, my job is secure.
Who'd want all the worry I have all the time?
It's no bed of roses, no sweet dream sublime;
For I am a homemaker, nanny and nurse;
The one they all turn to for better or worse.
This is my castle and I am it's queen,
And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
(It's the most thankless job in the world --- or is it.)
She is the quiet dawn,
lifting shadows from the earth,
her hands, a cradle of warmth,
her voice, a shelter of song.
She is the river’s flow,
carving paths through stone,
teaching patience in silence,
guiding the lost back home.
She is the steadfast flame,
burning through the storm,
her light a beacon of hope,
her love a sacred form.
She is the unseen star,
shining through the mist,
The Chosen Warrior,
whose care none can resist.
She is the homemaker, the food-bearing goddess,
Yet through all the praise, she remains modest.
Mothers are everywhere, across the world,
in golden halls, in humble soil,
strong women united as one,
through misfortune, they still find joy.
Every living soul should honor them—
uncle, aunt, child,
and especially men.
Though we may falter, forget to be grateful,
A mother’s love remains faithful.
With the morning begins my day;
Different roles I'm ready to play.
Again and again I am perturbed ,
But nature and emotions are undisturbed.
Silently, without a word, all needs I suffice;
Day to night, unsaid unconditional sacrifice.
What do I gain from all these duties?
Deteriorating my health and my fugacious beauty?
Still, I don't pretend, I take my job seriously;
As a homemaker and a mother, working audaciously.
If I don't follow my virtue as my duty,
Who else do you think will prove their loyalty?
(Rhyme Scheme- aa bb cc dd ee ff)
21/04/2016
P.S. This poem is inspired by my mother who is a diligent homemaker and the best mother on earth.
She works around the clock it seems
Washing clothes and cleaning things.
At times content, at times despairing,
But always there and always caring.
Taking on the daily tasks,
Responding to the voice that asks:
“Mom, have you….” you know the rest.
But do you know how mothers bless?
Mothers run a home, that’s true.
But there’s much more to what they do.
Beyond the making of a house
They make a life, they lift a spouse.
They raise up doctors, raise up teachers.
They raise managers and preachers.
They raise architects, and builders,
Soldiers, presidents, center fielders.
Every daughter, every son;
The homemaker shaped every one.
Our lifetimes bear a mother’s seal,
Because mothers, make love real.
You were always number one, never number two.
I'm your son and I was very fortunate to have you.
You cared more about others than you did for yourself and that is rare.
It took your death to show me how hard life can be and how unfair.
Because you chose to be a homemaker, I was able to spend much more time with you and that made me glad.
Because of you, I admire women who are homemakers and I don't care if that makes Feminists mad.
When people see me, they see a man who is proud to be your son.
You always came first in my life, you were always number one.
[Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013.]