Long Mothers day Poems
Long Mothers day Poems. Below are the most popular long Mothers day by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mothers day poems by poem length and keyword.
Every year, at the scheduled arrival of March,
Mother Nature became seasonally enraged,
Like a lion, an unjustly imprisoned beast in a cage,
Like a cancer patient walking on the last stage
For the last time - the last baby is now aged;
Two seasons are about to rush, crush and crash.
Every thing started with the hauling and yelling winds
Slapping their huge feathers on all windows,
Mother Nature’s heavily breathing on different rows
Of the trees that refused to be scattered all over like the sands
Of the battered beaches, like the small adoring plants,
Which the deceased grandmothers left on the slants.
Every year, it is the same old thing, the same old rituals,
Yet the school children just love it, since all classes are canceled;
The teachers are understandably elated, because they were told
To stay home as well; the aborted duels
Are bound to take place another time, another day,
Where everyone will fall under a lighter tray, a better array.
The last winter storm was really a prelude to a cool spring,
Just like Valentine’s Day was the prelude to Mother’s day;
At dawn, don’t be surprised to hear the cries of a new offspring,
And hundred of little ones performing at the last school play.
Copyright © March 2009, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
“Bright Shining One”
(by Michelle L. LeBlanc 05/12/2024)
Dedicated to my son, Jayden Donald LeBlanc
Today as the Sun is shining
I think of my beautiful Son
Though some may see him in the ground
I see him as my Bright Shining One
His Love lights up my life
His Memories warm my heart
The Joy he brought to my life
Has been with me from the start
Though I may not see him now
I know that he is there
His consciousness ever glowing
His laughter everywhere!
People don't know how I do it
I can't say I know myself
But there's something in my heart
That will not stay hidden on a shelf
My heart fills with love
There's a sparkle in my eye
I connect with him in spirit
Not as one who has died
I did not come to this conclusion
Because of the pain in my heart
But because my son has made it clear
That he never left me from the start
And though this may be Mother's Day
I still have three beautiful boys
Not a single one of them is missing
This heart has not been destroyed!
Last time I saw her, you could feel the autumn breeze
Digging through all these memories of a picture and a thousand words
Remembering all the summers past, with a laugh on this day
Although a mother's worries may seem to go unnoticed
You gave us all someone to look up to all these years
With the silent love two doves could share forever
This is what we all hold onto to, your hand was always there
Raising six from child through every changing season
And, the tears of another sweet sixteen
It was with a gentle touch of a mother's love
You give us all something to believe in
Another photograph will finds its place
There are some things you can't put into words
There might not be a marching band, or banners in flight
Know that the love from all of us, is yours
Just the other day I came across a picture of you with your horse
And was amazed to see how much we looked alike
Could it be true that you are mere words upon a cold stone
Quiet, beautiful and kind Jacqueline
Unbelievable you left this world on Mother's Day
Entangled, meshed, intertwined are our souls for eternity
Love is what you left with me
I am so proud to be the daughter of one such as you
Not a day will go by that you are not in my heart
Especially on Mother's Day
_________________________________
March 14, 2015
Poetry/Acrostic/JACQUELINE
Copyright Protected, ID 03-653-962-14
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
For the Standard contest Acrostic on Mother's Day,
sponsor, Tammy Reams, Judged 04/2015
First Place
I cant write a better poem for my poet
I cant paint a better portrait for my artist
I cant sing the best song for my rock star
I cant tell the best story about mom
Though,
I can describe a little that I know
Simply the nicest person on the planet
Simply, that's what i know
The strongest of all I have met
She is the lead soloist who thinks she is just backing in a rehearsal
She is the real joy who thinks she is a supplement
She is the real cookie when i need one
So many times I thought
I would never find someone to love me,
The way I needed to be loved...
Then I found mom, just there, always there
There's a story behind everything.
How a picture gets on a wall.
How a scar gets on your face.
Sometimes the stories are simple,
Sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking.
But behind all our stories is always a story
Our mom's story,
Because hers is where ours begin
Dedicated to my mom Cinda Carter a woman who
has walked my heart and left love prints
that nothing can wash away
Form:
Physically, I can't kiss you
Now I am kissing you with my words
I miss you more than all the tears
I've cried
I love you with every breath I take
You didn't leave me empty
You gave me your love
You left me so many memories
Some days are good
Others not so good, but I know
In all moments
Your love
Continues to surround me
Even though you are not here to hug
I value the moments I could hug you
The moments of just laying on the bed
Next to each other saying nothing
Happy Mother's Day, Mom
No gift, no card
Just an I love you
From me to you
With my heart exposed
*Dedicated to my mom, first Mother's Day without you*
@110520171017
Mother’s Day! The excitement mounts.
I let my children off the hook.
Don’t come. Don’t call. Don’t text. Don’t bother me.
Yes, it is Mother’s Day weekend but
I have a full time planned, writing poetry, playing word games, painting my canvases.
I let my children enjoy their day.
They also can play whatever they want.
Feeling no guilt for not entertaining me
For you see, no one entertains me like I do.
And if they do not come, I can stay in my fluffy zebra pajamas all day.
I can take naps if I want.
I can lie down and retain what little health I have left.
I have been terribly sick. I might die today. I am an old woman.
Old women die, right? All I want is clear lungs today. Not company.
And frankly, no one entertains me half as well as I entertain myself.
how clever a peck on the cheek, a kiss on the head
a hug with a boa constriction for the parents i love.
how cruel this fate of social isolation, to stunt the breath
of this illusion, that i might have them more and more times.
the kiss off of a mother’s day and all things pretty and wrinkled.
a jolly show of faces — did i once think the actors could slink
through a small or large screen. we haggle with time, dressing
up in effects, wrapping backgrounds, like furs, around caricatures
of ourselves — astronauts, cross-dressers, punk. my mom
holds a very dry martini — six olives on a skewer in empty glass.
we kin do amuse one another and the claustrophobic togetherness
where a normal situation would have us wandering, appetizering,
sidewinder-chitchatting, fobbing the keys of a remote control,
checking seconds and minutes for appropriateness of slipping
out the door — that of course, for bored spouses, who love
the in and out of screen time and beg to screen all holidays this way
while a bored housewife wants for the drive that spurs one on
toward childhood — a link between life and death, playful
joy of trinkets and melodious voices soothed by the setting years;
the wrinkle of time sells all anger, judgment, unkindness —
the baggage that weighs down elephants, the infantile crawl
of bondage. Now the rocking of Brumbies, snail’s pace of sunset
grace of a gray nest, cascading shoulders, ears out of tune
but pure-gold’s love — the plinking strings of a plentitude heart.
Mom and Dad cheer with glistening glasses, their merry martinis
marvel at their wealth — one olive, three olivettes grin at them.
5/11/2020
Non-rhyming couplets
The old combs
Stay with me many years
Now I bought new combs too
But too lazy to use
I stay at home
Especially during MCO
I seldom use mirror or comb
I use my hands to comb most of the time
To tidy the short hair I cut myself
I'm too old to use comb often
I'm too lazy to bother appearance
Which was spoiled by dimmy eyes and ugly wrinkles
Suddenly I think of my parents
Everyday they couldn't do without combs
They brushed their hair tidy and shining
Father with a quick sweep
Mother with a long hour combing straight down
Olden days people like tidiness and cleanliness
Their days are simple
And follow routines and etiquette
Their hearts loyal and simple
Like the being straightened hair
Now people like fashions ,excitements and hairstyles
The combs bring me back
The sweet memories of my parents and their love
The old combs deserve to be kept
In my heart
Especially during this Mother's and Father's Day
You are welcome to share this poem for noncommercial use and dedicate it to your favorite mother, but please credit the author if you share it on social media or elsewhere …
Mother’s Smile
by Michael R. Burch
There never was a fonder smile
than mother’s smile, no softer touch
than mother’s touch. So sleep awhile
and know she loves you more than “much.”
So more than “much,” much more than “all.”
Though tender words, these do not speak
of love at all, nor how we fall
and mother’s there, nor how we reach
from nightmares in the ticking night
and she is there to hold us tight.
There never was a stronger back
than father’s back, that held our weight
and lifted us, when we were small,
and bore us till we reached the gate,
then held our hands that first bright mile
till we could run, and did, then flew.
But, oh, a mother’s tender smile
will leap and follow after you!
I have dedicated this poem to my mother, Christine Ena Burch, and my wife, Elizabeth Harris Burch. Published by TALESetc, Famous Poets and Poems, Poems for Big Kids (anthology), Victorian Violet Press, Better Than Starbucks, Promosaik (Germany), Pour Femme (Italy), Korean Palmers, JIT Jaipur (India), Inspirational Stories and Care2Care; also Penguin Books Valentine’s Day Contest Winner and included in the Children of Gaza song cycle by composer Eduard de Boer. Keywords/Tags: Mother, Mothers, Mothers Day, family, children, love, compassion, tenderness, encouraging, encouragement, selflessness, sacrifice, comfort, hugs, kisses, smile, smiles
Love has a gentle grace
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth on Mother’s Day
Love has a gentle grace; you have not seen her
unless you’ve looked into your mother’s eyes
and seen her faith
—serene, composed and wise—
that you’re the center of her very being
(as once, indeed, she carried you inside.)
Love has no wilder beauty than the thought
that you’re the best of all she ever sought.
(And if, perhaps, you don’t believe my song,
can your mother be wrong?)