Long Mother Poems
Long Mother Poems. Below are the most popular long Mother by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mother poems by poem length and keyword.
The young mind weaved the tapestry of dream
as an expectant mother floating on the wings of cloud nine.
The flower of future she conceived in the realm of desire
caressed gently with soft petals as it bloomed within her.
Longing to see a part of her became reality she waited
with the heart filled with embedded excitement dormant,
that melted away in the nightmare of relentless tears,
for the premature new life was born still.
Her mind took time to rise from the debris of sorrow
to perceive the dented desire of motherhood return.
She counted the agonizing months once again,
spent unsure days in the fear of losing another part of hers.
Her trepidation ended with the first cry of the child in her arms,
the joy of possession flowed like a surging stream in flood,
but it dried soon at the cruel dawn of the smoldering reality,
for the child was born with an impaired brain.
Covered with the encompassing dark dust of despair,
and entangled with the splinters of the broken dreams,
she waited to traverse the tunnel of bleak future to measure
the depth of her misery in the dismal abyss of destiny.
______________
(It is a true story)
February 5, 2021
Contest : Break My Heart, Why Don't Cha
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
569.
Prayer for the 9th Commandment
Oh Father God, you have commanded us not to covet our neighbor's wife
This I must, this I make a proper strife
For when You have binded a man & a woman
They should be for each other one
Oh Jesus Christ, help me not get other's spouse
Do not take the woman of another's house
To God there is only one Mother
From God there is only one Father
Oh Holy Spirit, let me not take the woman of another man
This is God's command, this should be done.
Amen.
-10/31/2017
(Dumarao)
*Prayer for the 10 Commandments
the Nulla Nulla passed
in a delicate arch
this was the final throw
no prey or hunters fate awaits
at journeys end
end over end
as the battles before
or terrors that lay behind
fell away,
the Nulla Nulla
becomes one
with mother
again
as this warrior is beaten
with the dust of time,
and wearing
his shroud of birth
tribute is paid and offered
in a thousand thanks to Gaia
as a billion
points of sand
burn his feet
he relishes
his last walkabout,
merging into
a shimmering mirage
within the dreamtime,
the serpent
writhes in joyous welcome,
at his homecoming
A soul of abundance
On path of life
Thriving on blessings from God
Hallowed havens
A salvation for the mind
Mother Nature
A light to the heart
Enthralled by beauty
A Goddess of Life
A gem in flowing streams
Igniting Divine Love
Rekindling spiritual insight
An aching thirst for truth arises
A rising crave to quench the blaze
A soul of blessings
Holding on to the very truth
The spark within
Shall never fade
Paths leading to Beauty
An outpouring of faith and love
A full heart dipped into the fountain of wonder
Far from appeasing that hunger
A Goddess, a servant of The Beyond
On path of Life
Cannot belong
But to eternal Beauty
Unsatisfied, beyond the veil
We are an all in All
Outstretching hands
For souls not to fall
The quest for Life has no end
Shall not reach what to Bliss
Puts an end.
Burning flames of ardour
When grown faint
And the tune of the soul music
Would turn down
Rapture, Divine Beauty
An essence, a secret not to attain
The pursuit is not vain
The light within the soul is shed
Deny not the ocean of wisdom
Deplore not the eternal quest for Beauty
A free Spirit
Unbounded by shores
Divine Beauty
A wonder to behold.
' '''''''' ' ''
Somewhere a hand is reading out loud
a Dickinson, a leather-worn journal
recording daily life’s soirees,
memorizing rain and shielding little girl’s eyes
from the blasting words of the sun.
Somehow someone reaches
from darkness to drive the shadows
that meet the body of her child: trembling
with excitement or fear,
sliding tender fingers on the back;
parts the arms like wind that rushes in
all seasons to reveal the lush, delicious
landscape of summer ; then rubs the elbow
down the forearm to greet the cheeks
with a kiss and watches while
the hands move back without help or
guidance from the daughter sleeping. ~
Somewhere a mother, grandmother,
godmother, stepmother, or mother nature
weeps over love’s broken child;
uses her hair to bandage
the wound on the youth’s head …unfolds
her hands from prayer to widen
the window of angel psalms
pressing her lips into alleys
of the sapling’s mouth: a tear transforms her
from receiving to giving. ..
and she feels without seeing the last light
of the night; lit for those who witness
its final extinguishing.
©
........ .... ........
*with love to my Mom who had passed on*
Gautami Phookan's Poet lll Contest
by nette onclaud
The house was cold
when I was young
we didn't have much heat
we were poor
and didn't get enough to eat
then Christmas came
and mommy cried
cause all that she had left
was a box of old ribbons
setting on a shelf
she thought of all
kinds of things
if she could only make
a gift for each of us
to give on Christmas Day
she had such pretty colors
some red,some white
and blue
she even had some pink and green
a little lavender to
night after night she'd sat and sew
her fingers almost froze
when she could no longer
hold the thread
only then,she'd go to bed
when we woke up
on Christmas morn
and jumped to the floor
to see what lay beneath the tree
that wasn't there before
she made us each gift or two
some red and some just blue
and you could see
the love she gave
as it came shinning thru
Merry Christmas
dear mommy
and may this day bring
a stocking full of love
and topped with pretty things.....
When I look across the yard and see
wooded hills and a cold running stream
It is hard to think about those kids
that think Mother Nature is a dream
I pity the child who’s forced to play
on cold cement and bare brick playground
Where weeds growing through the thick asphalt
is the only nature to be found
Their swimming hole a broken hydrant
some have never seen a blade of grass
They only glimpse the blue light of day
through boarded windows with cracking glass
The fruit they eat is a box of powder
their veggies have a metal pull tab
The trees they climb are empty stairways
their grass is just a hot concrete slab
At night the sounds of nature for them
are police sirens headed uptown
Their autumn leaves are just life’s refuse
lying scattered about on the ground
I should value this country life more
stop my whining and shouldn’t complain
how humidity ruins my hair
or the ground is so muddy from rain
Thank the creator for the blessings
that he saw fit to bestow on me
How I do sorrow for the children
that do not have it as good as me
I dream
A little girl’s magical dream
A dream of just dancing
I look in the mirror as I dance in gracefulness
Hearing the magic of the music in its sound
I stand on my tiptoes and stretch as far as I can
I twirl, leap, spin, and sing
Dancing is what I want to do when I grow up
Casting shimmering reflections
Tickling my toes and heart
The future holds the key
A dancer is what I want to be
~
Moving forward into a new phase in my life
A wife, mother, teacher, artist and poet I've become
Complete and in harmony
Everything a little girl would have dream for
But a small part of me still desires
For peace of yesterday I yearn
To be that little girl again and those wonderful dreams of dancing I had
8/20/2015
In my head is a little green monster who wants to put me down.
He has a pointed purple tail, and he wears an angry frown.
He says such mean things to me, he used to keep me mad and sad.
Now when he starts up, I barely hear him, and this is rather rad.
He used to call me loser, tell me I was not so good.
He used to put down my choices, and called me mean words like “a hood”.
He used to tell me I would always come in last in every kind of race.
I heard him in my cocoa, my math class, and every other place.
He was an uninvited monster, and he ruled me long and hard.
He was aggressive, and mean, made my life feel like a chard.
I stopped listening to him, when I became a baby child’s mother.
I knew I had to throw him out, so I did, in which way and another.
He kept creeping back into my mind, whispering stupid, mean stuff.
I had to get vicious with him; I threw him out, and frankly, I was tough.
Finally, I told him he could stay, but only if he was willing to change.
Now he is my advocate, and my friend, for we are both deranged.
Born before the war
The sky was sullen and sorrowful
was the mist smoke from hot cannons
on crackling radios, people listened to
a man shrieking and thought
what a useless idiot
my birth was painful for my mother
she cried
my brother entered the room
slapped my face for hurting her
He was four years old and born,
a mild fine day in May
thus of happy disposition
expert in telling jokes
and in later years, wore my leather
jacket I had bought in Buenos Aires
October weather has much to answer for
my gloomy opinions are banned
on the Woke sensors on Facebook
who says, if you cannot be pleasant, send
a picture of a day in May
Me, I was expelled when the junta of four
colonels who ruled Greece for drinking ouzo
and be critical of them
Sent to an island for the mad, but six
month later, the hapless four officers
joined me and became orderly, cleaning
bed pans