Long Mother daughter Poems
Long Mother daughter Poems. Below are the most popular long Mother daughter by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mother daughter poems by poem length and keyword.
It was easy to know…
An ever ready hug
A sticky candied kiss
A sweet clinginess
Eyes full of admiration
Songs full of love
A call for help meant only for one
Arms outstretched always wanting
It was easy to know
It was easy to show…
A wake up call to a favorite breakfast
A new frilly dress
Special occasion celebration
Treat upon treats
A longed for whined for gift delivered
Story time snuggles
Game time giddiness
Attention undivided
Every little need provided
It was easy to show
Yes, it was easy to know she loved me
Yes, it was easy to show I loved her
My daughter, my life
It was easy to know....easy to show
Why is it so hard now?
Refocusing on present realities
New forms
New expressions
New words
I struggle to find new ways
The old ones are worn out
All that’s left now is doubt
It’s hard to show…
It’s hard to know…
Am I still valued in her eyes?
Why does the passage of time make it so hard?
Why?
Isn’t love timeless?
Eileen Manassian
I seldom think of her; so many years
have passed since she was taken from our earth.
The hurt and sorrow have been healed. And yet-
forever she is here, beyond my thoughts-
a beacon, lighting up my daily path.
I seldom think of her, yet she is here
etched deep within my genes to carry on.
And I, her daughter, lavish in the wealth
of gifts, she left me- gems of love and life
embedded in this heart, she molded well.
I seldom think of her; my days are filled
with life. Yet, always she is here at rest
in me- the seedling from her earthly womb-
a mother's legacy of flesh and blood.
No need to think of her- she lives in me.
June 25, 2015
~10th Place
Premiere Contest: The Last Token
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Judged: 04/08/2021
~5th Place~
Premiere Contest: More To Me
Sponsor: William Kekaula
Judged: 06/27/2019
~7th Place~
Premiere Contest - Late April 2018
Sponsor: by Brian Strand
Judged: 04/22/2018
~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: Blank Verse
Sponsor: John Lawless
Judged: 12/10/2016
~1st Place~
Contest: Tell Us About Your Mom
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Judged: 12/28/2015
Turn around! Turn around!
In perpetual spin memories abound.
One gown, long to the ground.
Antique white - quite profound.
A mother’s right to sow seeds.
A holy Father’s to yank weeds.
Snowbound virginal waist.
No legs, the hem was chaste.
Turn around! Turn around!
In perpetual spin memories abound.
Took the dress out for a formal spin.
Line dances would break her in.
Innocence with natural beige and blush.
Looks like a bride; there is no rush.
A mother’s right to sow seeds.
A holy Father’s to yank weeds.
Thrice used for the thrifty -
sceptical mightn’t find nifty.
One gown, long to the ground.
Antique white - quite profound.
She, the dress, looks like a bride -
the prom goer would confide.
Turn around! Turn around!
In perpetual spin memories abound.
The cake topper would be baby’s breath.
A mother would provide before its death.
The death of the gown buried in drawer,
found and tried on at least once more.
In secret, her daughter found and dressed.
Who knows if she was impressed -
however looking forward, she’d pick out
her very own ankle-covered knockout.
One gown, long to the ground.
Antique white - quite profound.
Only today, I discovered similarities -
a mother’s and daughter’s peculiarities.
Turn around! Turn around!
In perpetual spin memories abound.
5/17/2023
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Invisible yet invincible
By Michelle Morris
17/10/2021
A tender moment
between a mother and her babe
nuzzling for nourishment
creating a bond so great
Beyond comprehension
invisible yet invincible
forever in consciousness
forever merged hearts and souls
Forged in blood
in late night feedings
early morning greetings
roundabouts and swings
More tender moments
a lifetime of promises
searching for individuality
whilst wanting to stay bonded
Relationship milestones
time marches on
age makes no difference
to a mother's protective arms
Always in touch
no distance can erase
telepathy brings
emotions to the surface
Nothing is stronger
more gentle
more right
than the bond between
a mother
and
her child
© Michelle Morris, 2021
My mom does be a shining lady, one among a million
She had been the one giving me support ever since I was born
She was the one to spark off in me, my love for books
She was the one who would read to me, stories, to help me sleep, at the fall of dusk
Yes, without my mom, I would not be who I am today
A Health Officer, mind you, with matters pertaining to hygiene, she does not play
Always severe and strict with me and my siblings
She does take loads of care in food handling
She does be my pillar in life
She does be the one to shoulder my grief
She does be my friend
Yes indeed, ever since I was a child, she had held my hand
She is, though, a lady who had not had choices
Living in a rigid and strict culture, she could not even raise her voice
Rather, she was imposed upon
Rather, she was trodden upon
Intelligent, she still loves learning
Even if her topics be related to health or to learn typing
She is ready to sacrifice anything
To get a bit more of enlightening
She is the one because of whom I am the way I am
Bold, feminist, a twice thinker, dealing easily with any storm
Yes, for I have seen her waging battles
And yes, I have seen her emerging winsome
My mother does be the one being I do love the most
Yes, of her good looks and her witty ways shall I always boast
My mother, my gift, the one to care for me
Even if I do be one very stubborn and difficult lady!
Born she was at the time my country was still under colonization
Skim and scarce is her level of education
Yet, she is so brave, so hardworking, so courageous and so ambitious
She did teach me to be, with matters pertaining to life, one so cautious
She lives still today, for that I am thankful
Without her, life would surely not feel so joyful
She loves dining, wining, dancing and partying
Yes, a real lady she is, one of the best, indeed!
So many times I sat in this very place
Trying to remember your voice or face
Afraid the little things would fade
Because all I have now are the memories made
And that’s what I have to cling to
To help me deal with losing you
Here I tried to find answers to why
I begged, pleaded, and cried to the sky
Told God how it wasn't fair
And this pain I couldn’t bare
Now for so very long
I continue to try and be strong
But the pain I found a way around
My cries no longer make a sound
Though sometimes a tear falls down
I can smile instead of frown
I no longer hold the anger and hate
I know now it was a part of fate
And though the reasons aren't so clear
I feel a part of you here
I carry it with me everywhere I go
And though the healing process is slow
In this place and on this day
Your baby girl has found a way
To let go of all the pain
After all an angel he gained
And I know you're watching over me
Everything I've done I know you see
I just hope you know
I do what I do
Honoring the memory of you!!!!
On Saturday morning I drive over to my daughter’s house unexpectedly.
She’s not the drop in kind of gal, but I don’t care.
It’s all about me this week, my little me week.
She flings open the door and glares at me
After I am getting ready to use my key,
The one I’m never supposed to use, but
I did press the doorbell 138 times.
Right?
She glares at me, and stomps off mad,
Toward the dining room. I watch her back.
“Can we?”
“NO!”
“Can we just?”
“NO!”
“I am not spending the day with you, MOTHER.
This is April.
My busy month.
You know that!”
April already?
Wow.
“What are you eating?”
Another unnatural glare.
“Pancakes with lemon, and blueberries, and pudding,” her back is still towards me.
Damn.
That sounds great,
But I’m not offered any.
She’s mad.
I’ll give her that.
“Mom, why are you HERE?”
“You didn’t answer the phone,” I say. “I thought…”
She rolls her eyes.
“I want to buy a new car today,” I tell her. “But my eyes are glassy because of the stupid predizone. And I stopped taking it on Tuesday. Can you drive me to a car dealer?”
“I am NOT LETTING YOU BUY A CAR TODAY, MOTHER!”
Wow.
I have not been mommed by her like this since she was twelve.
“We needed a little Mom-Angela time,” I continue.
Yes, believe it or not, this is the cherub’s name.
I’m not lying!
She makes a little smoothie for herself.
Relents a little bit.
Asks if I want one.
Yes, I DO!
Thank you.
Hooray!
It’s working.
She’s melting. We end up spending seven and a half hours together,
One of the best mother daughter days I’ve ever had!
Written April 6th, 2018
In midnight gazes call me sullen upon my cheek
Rousing replies risen bound by chains
Lest mercy be tallowed by all frays
Lest my cheek rise by an untimely hour
Rid my face of discoloured honour
Until it shall stalk by the wretched wicker sun's rays
O wither upon the wicker's sun dropped desire
Feign, o swell upon the imperious bells
Dear wicker, o ire, shalt rain upon the sinner's drencht trap
Leave mellow cleaves upon a skull's prondered fallows
O wicker, dear wicker, fall'n be the strife within my own trial
Ris'n upon a mellow moon's impassive scamp
A whore within such heavenly light, where'n quarry shalt seek a seeming clamp
Fought a feign, O swallow, O blossom by my might
Shalt the wicker sun swoon upon my sorrows?
O life, upon a liver, foreclose a killer
For soon i shall take upon flight
Until the sun's swollen wicker shall take upon the morrow
Shall anguish thrive upon a famisht howl
Come without breaks, nor bend
I shall steal upon the wicker's whelms
Towards the sways, o sorrow shall bend
Belier my helm, 'til all else shall fall hither
'Til I hear the moon call upon the wicker,
And I shall fly.
It was over thirty years ago
When I was married the first time
My mother gave me recipes
That were favorites of mine
Her Italian sauce and Biscotti cookies
She had written down for me
I've cooked them both many a time
Oh, they taste so wonderfully
After I had got divorced
Two years later she had passed
Oh my god, the time sure flies
It's gone by so darn fast
I forgot about the recipes
When I went back on my own
But I did a lot of cooking
When I lived home all alone
Each time now when I make a sauce
It still never tastes the same
I still can't match that special taste
From my mothers cooking hand of fame
I never made the Biscotti cookies
Because the recipe was not around
Until my daughter surprised me and said
"Hey dad, look what I just found"
My ex-wife had them for thirty years
She had found them in a book
And gave them to my daughter for me
So that I can bake and cook
A pretty cool thing my ex had done
Yes, a pretty cool thing I say
So I'll make a batch of Biscotti cookies
And I'll give my ex a tray
Back fifty-three long years ago, she left;
my Mom- at the young age of fifty-five.
Yet, she is always with me every day;
my heart and memories keep her alive.
Three growing grandkids she embraced and loved;
her gentle heart they shared for just a while.
Then, years flew by- two generations grew-
to crown her Great-Great Grandma with a smile.
I feel her presence in the things I do,
as part of her still grows and lives in me;
and everything she taught me carries on,
as I, a Great-Grandmother now, can see.
In clouds, I often see her gentle face
and know that she's with God, and not her grave-
for she's my Saint in Heaven- there to be
the inspiration I will always crave.