Long Mom Poems
Long Mom Poems. Below are the most popular long Mom by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mom poems by poem length and keyword.
I am crazy with excitement,
Dizzy with anticipation,
I have seen your scan,
You will meet Gramps and me
For we are all family.
It will be somewhat soon,
I will buy a big pink balloon.
Your little foot is showing,
Your hair I think will be dark and curly,
Your mummy has nurtured you
From the moment you were conceived
Confined and safe within her womb.
Your dad ready to welcome you, delighted,
Can foresee his elation.
FOR MUMMY AND DADDY
Enjoy this little bundle of joy for time and
Age march on so quick, soon it will be
Her first birthday celebration,
Her first word, and don’t forget her pride
When she comes to mum and dad with
Her potty to show you her first poo.
Just have a small peek at her nappy,
You might need to change that too.
Both mom and dad, beautiful and bright,
Your little girl will be the apple of your eye,
As you tuck her into bed at night, either one
of you, with a loving thankful sigh.
Into my future, If I get a sudden chance to peep
I'd choose my ninety-fourth birthday hoping am still alive
My mother left us at that ripe age while still in good health
not live long, but I'd be happy to witness the scene live
It is not my desire to be a freaky immortal
From ninety-four, it's Test Cricket, just singles with my bat
I wish to see what things would be on that momentous day
And to score a grand century is what I'm aiming at
I need to be ethereally there cutting the cake
With my wife, those who matter, egging me for an encore
All of us encouraging and back-patting each other
It's what I want to see in future, and what years I score
My ninety-fourth birthday event is what I want to see
But I also know that life is cruel and a known tease
We can never know when and where our breath will be snuffed out
When we shall dance, sing and when our life will come to a cease
Happy birthday, Mom
I wonder how many years have passed by
Since I gave you my first tenuous smile
Since you steadied my first faltering step
Since the first time I called you "Mommy"
You are the place I came from
You are my first home
You are an angel in human form
Who lives inside my laughter
And crystallized in my every tear drop
I want to thank you
For your heart, faith and hope
For teaching me right from wrong
For your tender care and warm hugs
For all your steadfast love
For filling my days with rainbow lights
For all the times we have shared
For always being there in my time of need
For helping me deal with life's stresses
For helping me accept my defeats
For everything you have done
For you made me a woman I am
One birthday after another
They seem faster each year
I just want you to know that
The years you devoted to me,
You can trust, were worthwhile.
Happy Birthday, Mom.
You are the best Mom a daughter could have.
~For my Mom's B'day @July 12
"Life is a journey with both good and bad along the way." By Poet
My dad has been gone for many years,
making it time to clean out his belongings.
I remember his war stories as a young child,
they were better then reading books.
Each word would come to life,
as his stories went on and on.
Telling about his men almost starving,
and how the farmers fed and hid them.
Here in a box what did I just find?
Love letters to mom in old torn envelopes.
What is this thingamajig?
It looks like a writing pen but it will not write.
Did you know pens in those days needed to be ink filled?
Imagine that!
They filled their pens with ink before they would write.
Today we still have writing pens,
most come ink filled and ready to write,
some are disposable pens.
None will be as cherished as this old one,
knowing ink flowed over his journal and love letters.
Love’s Extreme Unction
by Michael R. Burch
Lines composed during Jeremy’s first high school football game (he played tuba), while I watched his mother watch him.
Within the intimate chapels of her eyes—
devotions, meditations, reverence.
I find in them Love’s very residence
and hearing the ardent rapture of her sighs
I prophesy beatitudes to come,
when Love like hers commands us, “All be One!”
Keywords/Tags: motherhood, mother, son, Mother's Day, mom, love, family, relationship, extreme unction, devotions, meditation, reverence, love’s residence, beatitude, beatitudes, heaven, unity, solidarity, togetherness, oneness, one
I'll respect your smug remarks
even though I don't agree
I just don't understand
why you're patronizing me
Heaven forbid this incident
should e'er befall you
until you've walked
in these same shoes
you don't know WHAT you'll do
You wag your tongue
and turn your nose
at every move I make
But you're still a brand new "mommy"
just wait - you'll make mistakes
You think you've got it figured out
YOUR perfect child can cope
they'll turn around and hang you
with that 'condescending' rope
You'll soon see how hard it is
to ignore them when they cry
until you've been a mom awhile
you best not criticize
I must say the truth my work as of the month of March-2025--
I will not write any more works in my last name because that last name always belong to my mother! To my mom space!! My Mom died or transition to the next level this March. 2025 in her nineties! I never knew my dad to carry his name so you know what I was called but I decided a long time ago to keep the last name to make my mother smile now she has gone to her resting place and I am in hurt and can no longer rest in my last name in my art or Poetry or any thing else that I create!! i Will sign my works as Brenda Joyce with no last name from here on through my existence. My works that are in Joyce Faure will remain in tribute to my Mother, a Salute to what was asked of me and our worlds! May God Bless!
Oh wow! I had to backtrack my thoughts, so I went back to using Joyce Faure
Sincerely Joyce Faure
Form:
My Mom was a simple lady
That's not meant to be demeaning
A sweetie with a heart of gold
Still see her gentle face gleaming
Passed away over forty years ago
But I still remember her smile
A smile that told me all was well
In her own sweet tender style
You'd think that after over forty years
Her memory would surely fade
Not so, her memory is alive and well
Just proves the impact she made
She was simple in the way she lived
Just a plain old fashioned Mom
The kind they write about in novels
Always graceful as a swan
Still miss my dear sweet Mom
Lived a good life until she was eighty
Always admired the best in people
A true description of a lady
I knew what love is from my mom, my first sensation
Before I could grasp its meaning, I sensed that emotion
I enjoyed it in breadth and depth as a babe from my mom
She wiped away my aches with love’s soothing balm
A mother’s love involves sacrifice and pain
It is patient and persistent, never seeking any gain
Come what may, nothing can take it away
This many splendored miracle, shall always stay
Often, like dew drops falling from above
Or the warbling notes flowing out from the grove
Love leaves the heart go upbeat in prosody
Changing every sensation into rhapsody
As beams of silver cast by the moon
Or the cold touch of spray in the horrid heat of noon
It soothes, embalms and thrills the heart
Filling the void and leaving no dearth
Love sublime, sure like a candle lit
Consumes itself, and never dwindles a bit
It dispels the gloom and dissipates the fright
Invigorating the soul and healing every hurt
As brilliance to stars, fragrance to flowers
Music to flute or shade to bowers
Love is to Man, freeing him from all sores
Bestowing him the strength to meet all throes
Love can never be occluded or beguiled
Neither be stifled nor be veiled
Love puts all other things into place
And hems life with a lovely lace
Love is all we seek and too scarce to find
A magic thread by which hearts are bound
Hark! It is love that makes the world spin around,
And cures all the ills that surround
Oh! Love thou virtues I will defend,
Though seasons change and youth doth end!
Lying limp with all my songs unsung
I hope I'll live to love unbound.
August.22.2022
The Meaning of Love Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Quiet Bird Songs
Daughter, come home.
Your mom is calling you.
She is singing the same song,
as when you were little.
She remembers,
everything.
She dwells upon yesterday,
and tries to believe,
tomorrow will include,
all the hopes and dreams
for you that she planted in gardens
or painted
into books on canvas,
the sides of boxes,
and the insides of
the dark places,
to let the light back in.
Come home sweet daughter,
where you belong.
Do not speak to strangers.
Do not do as they ask.
Run to the bus,
and tell the man at the wheel,
you need to go home,
like when you were little
at school.
Tell him to be the hero he was
when you were six,
and to drop you off,
at the Castle.
To take you back to the place,
where you belong.
Do it now,
before your mom...
is gone
and can not sing,
anymore.