Long Mothermother Poems

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Premium Member M O T H E R =(Contest)=

(MOTHER) 

For you I sing on this day
For you have shown me love, each and every way
I am yours and you are mine
I respect your love  until the end of time
With a mother like you, my life will always shine

Finding sun when there is rain
You are there to guide me in my pain
Lifting my heart when I am sad
Holding me when I am crying too
You are there when things get bad
Always doing what is true
When I say things to hurt you, or get you mad
I am sorry to have disappointed you 
like the times i got upset and started to fight
How about the times I tell you that your wrong
Never giving up on me, always showing me love 
Always waking up to a good morning kiss,
Than you always bless my goodnight kiss,
In those moments my life is where it belongs
For those reason to me you will always be right

Mother, I love everything you do

Like when you cook  for me
You also showed me how to tie my shoe
All those times I made you yell, or did not do things your way
You always found ways to make things  well
Always having the perfect thing to say

With a mother like you, I ask my self everyday
Are we a gift to you, from heaven above
Or, are you a gift to us, with lots and lots of love

Mother, I do not want to see you mad or sad 
You deserve to be treated special, from the day of birth
You deserve one more extra day besides your birthday 
Mother, you always know what to say
Mother, you deserve every thing your way
Mother, for you I will always pray
Mother to you I give all my heart
Mother not even your death tore us apart
Mother you are still in my soul no matter if we are apart

Mother I will never change you for another
This poem is just for you mother
Mother for you I praise your special day

HAPPY  HAPPY  MOTHERS  DAY

  (TO MY MOTHER WHO IS STILL WATCHING OVER ME)
                 ( I  WROTE THIS WHEN I WAS  17 )
© Skat A   Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Too Late To Say

I can smell the pies a baking
Upon the warmest summer day
Even with windows wide open
It’s a scent not gone away

She was there before the changing
Making food just like before
But once the afternoon had come
It was the bottle, wanted more

Now there were many of us still under
Yeah, under the roof she called her own
But, to this child who knew no better
This was my mom and too my home

Despite the angry, angry bottle
That turned her feelings dark and gray
I knew my mother forever loved me 
Though I wished my mom away

How sad I am today
That the bottle
Made me wish my mom away

Many years were cast upon us
I had grown into a family man
A hard working, white collar worker
Trying to do the very best I can

With my wife standing beside me
I have strength to look back and see
My misinterpreted emotions
And all my mother meant to me

She was here to see my children
She tried to make up for all she did
But all she had ever wanted, really
Was to be happy and to live

For she had so many children
I was the youngest of her ten
Yeah, I was my mother’s baby
But I never knew what it really meant

Until now that I’m a father
And sometimes things, they get so tough
It’s so easy to dive into a bottle
But, it’s love that makes one stop

She did that for my children
But, I never really saw her change
And never had the chance to tell her
All my feelings, cause it got too late

My mother left this world not long ago
She met my dad on Heaven’s floor
My only sadness is I never told her
That I couldn’t have loved her more

That I was thankful for all her loving
All the gifts she had given me
For her teachings of life in general
And my family’s history

I was grateful for her changing
But not the woman that she was
She was perfect in that way
Form:

The Mirror Which Forgot Her

My mother was beautiful when I was young.
In pictures she wore pearls.
I remember her putting on sky-blue eye shadow,
Even her eyebrows beautiful,
like the Arc de Triumphe.
And her ruby brooches,
And her stain glass blouses, rhinestones glinting on her silver shoes,
Hat plush with black feathers. 

I loved dressing up in the Eve
Of her gowns, 

so that I, too, could be beautiful.

II.

One day my mother cleared away all her Cinderella clothes,
the gauzes of her spring, 
.
Her rubies were not rubies, she vanished from pictures.
The mirror forgot her, saying I was the beautiful one,
my face rising into hers, hers falling from mine.   

III.

My mother carries her face through the world
Unphotographed, hook of spine crushing the softness inside her; 
mother-and-fatherless, uncertain in her bones,
afraid of sidewalks, left turns, yellow lights; 
body packed for the small
space of the future.
For a long time now, I have been the beautiful one,
My mother’s face in mine like a relic.
I hold the stick of her arm. 
In her face the last energy of sunset, skin unanchored to the bone
that must have made her beautiful once,  the girl from another century who looks/stares back 
at me from pictures and who does not know me.
The one who wears apricots and powder yellows, standing on the overexposed grass
Of another century, next to the azaleas that have forgotten their pink. 
It always seems to be Easter, 
the radiant sky blanched white.
My mother who isn’t my mother yet, smiling at whoever is taking the picture, 
Not knowing my face will rise from hers, hers fall from mine, 
as she looks from the brightness into the future's
long darkness, when the world will never again flock,
like a dove,
to the soft nest of her face.

Mother

Ode to the mother who is so kind
who’s beauty and gospel light always shine.
The mother that I love so dear always does the wash
The mother that I love so dears loves the kitchen store called Bosch.
Mother, I don’t know if you remember the time you once told me, 
that I would always be your baby as long as you were taller;
Believe me Mom that is not quiet fair you always knew I would be smaller.
I never told you how brave and strong you are to me.
Mother I first noticed your strength when grandma left this earth
I know how much it hurt you,
I know how much you cried.
The sorrow that burdened your heart always burdened mine
But the thing that I remember most was how I felt inside
I’d thought that I had lost her forever,
Mom, I thought life would never be the same. 
But then I looked into your eyes and that’s were I lost my pain.
I knew she wasn’t lost because her and you are the same, as long
as you’re my Mommy and forever with me you remain.
I hope one day Mother that I shine the way you do,
with the glory of God inside you and a little bit of grandma too.
Your beauty is more than outward appearance, it’s what’s on the inside I love.
You always put up with me, 
you always seem to care,
So Mother I know I’m not perfect 
and I can be a grouch,
But I know that you love me, and that’s what really counts.
I don’t know why you chose me, but I know why I chose you
Because God believed that you would lead me back to him and would keep me 
close to you.
I could not be more proud of the mother you are to me.
So thank you Mom for being the mother I want to be, I hope one day you will know
how much you will always mean to me.
Form: ABC

Premium Member My Mother

MY MOTHER          
Mother more than just a word; my mother is where my life began. My mother 
protected me from the world bonding together from the beginning. Safely tucked 
away I would spend the next nine months listening to her heart beat, gently 
floating in water. Our blood would mix and nourishment she supplied to me. 
My world and hers suddenly changed when my birth came about. No matter the pain 
we both endured, comfort quickly came as I found my way into her arms! Together 
we would make our way in this world as nothing compares to the love of my mother.
We listened to the birds singing, watched the lightning bugs, and talked of things 
on earth and heaven. My mother taught me love and gentleness’. Early in life I 
developed a sixth sense. I knew, “I had a guardian angel” and “God was always 
with me”.
Growing up was not so easy and I made many mistakes. Many times I did not 
understand my mother and swore she could not love me. I was looking through the 
eyes of a child and did not look through hers till aged and wiser!
My mother continued to love me forgiving my blunders in life for we bonded early 
when my heart first began to beat. With the passing of time my mother proud and 
supportive always tells me of her love for me. At times when I look in the mirror, 
looking back at me is my mother!
 I know life as I know one day may end however; my mother and I having shared 
life from the start will always be bonded in the heart. My mother gave from her 
heart and soul. Now to you my mother, in your honor; I dedicate and give this poem 
with all my love from all my heart!
						Your, Daughter Debbie 
Dew!
								
	July 20, 2011
Form: Narrative


Crushed-Blue Velvet

Four years of life had been obtained
Sitting on ol' Blue Velvet, crossing my legs
My mother crying, wiping her face
While i was perplexed on this beautiful day.

Father had walked in around noon
With the same face my mother wore
Kneeling beside me by the blue velour
Avoiding my eyes as if it was his chore.

Put in in words that a child understands
And spoke to me, first time, like a man
He'd be giving my mother back her hand
I crumbled inside like when water meets sand.

He said, "It's for the best, Pal"
How
No more family now
Followed up with, "We'll work it out somehow"

Four year old man i became
with an immature, gutless father to blame
Didn't even look at my mother the same
Loved her more and shared her shame.

The look on her face I will remember most
When father became stranger
she became both
mother and father.


I was glad when she got rid of that couch
The Crushed Blue Velvet that just sat still
Served as the tongue that swelled up in my mouth
And the childhood it killed.

Still tried to forget all memories of it
That Blue Velvet place is where it all started
Used to be my favorite place to sit
With both gone, my memories departed.

Might be thinking this a sad ode
On the contrary, it actually WAS for the best
My father only had Love A La Mode
Selfishness filled the rest.

My mother, the soldier, strongest being i know
Did what my idol couldn't do
she fed and watered and watched us grow
Showing us the truth.
Form: Rhyme

Pride of American Cousin

-

The draper shop in Drumshanbo town was busy on the day
The girls were moving bales of cloth and packing shelves away
Are you allowed to dance tonight Jackie's hall we all can sway
It's a ceili Band of Shan-a-han their good to dance and play
-
Dadddy's working late the pit and Sunday mass must go
The night before this dance you talk a condition don't you know
I will my mother announce to her and mammy will promote
My dress is paid and shelf a laid I'll take now then she wrote

Home that evening gay and trip the thatch upon the hill
Daddy home descends the thrown and says no way you will
Sad and cry by tears to sill and wipe them with the net
A car a pilot steps on out and walks the lane we met 

American Uniform proud and boast a cousin from the states
Oh ! Daddy dear please come come here I beg it's not too late 
Well fair enough a chaparone took, be home by midnight moon 
Oh ! Daddy dear I love you here and Mammy stirred the spoon

Into the dance a pride so strong all girls with jaws a dropp
A stunning man she said at hand an accent slightly lopped
I know that day my mother say one day I'll marry him 
But Daddy knows as cousins go not possible a sin

(Snippet of a story involving my mother in 1940s -West of Ireland)
© Ian Foley  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

900 Miles

Bird around the bay of white and swoops aloft the air
Descends upon the deck and lays a top a chair
Dear bird me thinks I leave my land to forage and to bare
And now my suit has got your fruits on shoulder and on hair

Tis luck shouts out a cabin crew success to you will come
Mean time I'll sidle down the lane the laundry mat I run
Dear mother cries a second gone. I cried from train to ship
One day return a penny more two sons upon a trip

Fair city crown from westland row beyond the port a bay
To sail to Forests hard and cold Fort William leads the way 
The work is hard my fathers tale dont work with rocks and dams   
Hibernia is a boldly spot a rugged place he bans
 
The uncle's bar a whisk'y jar serve porter strong and mean
Two bars my uncle holds right now upon the goebels green 
A war you'll go his comments show now to work for one small bob 
Dear uncle be more kindly now for I have a new a job

No longer work at wasted rates his mother would be shocked
My brother dear you stay well clear a slave who holds a mop
I love you mother and long to see you smile and praise your lot
900 miles return to you show Eirean what you got.
© Ian Foley  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Kyrielle

My Mother

My mother -
    Soft padded feet
    stop at my door
    Watching me sleep, watching me breath
Her love fills the room...
    comforting, soothing
        as I drift to dreams

My mother - 
    Her hand in mine
    squeezing tight
    First day of school, full of great fear
Her love fills the air...
    nudging, prodding
        as I leave her side

My mother -
    Soft padded feet
    stop at my door
    Remains at a distance, making sure I'm safe
Her love fills the house...
    silent, worried
       as in my rebellion I fly away

My mother -
    Smiling with pride
    eyes welling up
    At my father's side, walking down the aisle
Her love fills the church...
    beaming, radiant
       as I start a new life

My mother -
    So close to death
    ashen and pale
    I watch her breath, I hug her tight
Her love fills my heart...
    comforting, soothing
       as I say goodbye

My mother -
    Soft padded feet
    stop at the Gate
    Her arms opened wide, angels nearby
Her love fills the heavens...
    angelic, eternal
       as she waits for me...

Synonym Pt 2

I resume being paused as my mind dissects the vernacular,
Is continuing to think, a symptom of strength?
I chuckle as I sit befuddled,
With a constant struggle between this or that...
Yes or maybe,
As a baby, knowledge of strength was passively instilled in me,
Watching my mother produce more out of nothing than I could out of something...
But my eyes remain fixed on power lifting,
Awkward body shifting,
As he lifts a ton, perfectly balancing the mass,
Which pushes me to ask,
Are my mother and the lifter somehow in relation?
If so this equation, or rather expression's direction is pointed away from my mother,
For she is greater than he...
He lifts, then pushes, then rests, i guess...
Since the first push of birth not only has my mother lifted,
But for 18 years she carried and balanced a household and 3 lives,
So no matter how hard you strive to convince me,
It's simply impossible to drown in a glass of water,
When my mother treads water in the pacific,
And because of her treading, I now have a boat,
And hope does float...
I guess Webster was just trying to save time...

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