Mother Love Poems | Examples
These Mother Love poems are examples of Love poems about Mother. These are the best examples of Love Mother poems written by international poets.
She stays up way past midnight,
just checking on your breathing.
She keeps your terrible drawings
taped up like priceless art.
She lets you spill your mess,
your worries, your endless questions,
and somehow makes room for all of it in her small, tired heart.
She’s the one who holds you
when the world feels far too big,
the one who roots for you when nobody else shows up.
Even when you walk away to build a life of your own,
she’s still standing in the driveway, waving until you’re out of sight.
Remember when they used to put toys in the bottom of cereal boxes.
I would eat huge bowls to get to the treasure a bit sooner.
One time I took the stepmother's forbidden shortcut.
I plunged my dirty little mitt through layers of anticipation and flakes.
To reach a little blue plastic pig wrapped in her plastic blanket.
Mother caught and chastised me, just shy of an 8-cylinder cry.
At least I didn't get a thrashing, and she let me keep the little blue swine.
I never did the dirty plunge again, at least not in front of the aproned scolder.
I never did collect the entire set of plastic farm animals.
Before long, I moved on to Louisville Sluggers and puppy love.
Love and truth and peace and joy
Spread these frequencies throughout mother earth
Enter the hearts of every living man woman girl and boy
I remember as I child
eyeing the Christmas
tree, all lit and broadcasting.
Early-on I realized that Father
was Santa. Mother sensed it
when they married. Father, let go of his
well defined ego, embraced the principal
to secure the family, protect and
serve selflessly onto death.
VOICE
vowels
consonants
first words unexpressed
my impostor baby
its preponderant silence
"mama echoes i still love you"
Long before he donned the garb of terror
in his twisted mind, ‘no error’
He lay in swaddling clothes in his loving mother’s arms
a purveyor of charm ~ tender ~ incapable of harm
Today is your birthday
And I’m proud of you
Heart of gold you make
Joyful dreams a truth
Man of courage compassion
I love you very much son
Chocolate man of passion
A special intelligent one
Happy God blessed me so
Jones is your given name
Onyx hair and brilliant goals
Never change a single thing
Every prayer was like a dare
Saw God bless you to dream
Tears are wet to the palate
salty to the taste --
we cannot not live without
the water...nor salt --
and their expulsion associated with
many miseries, many deaths.
My focus though is on joyful tears --
laughter that pains the
ribs in a good way, after a funny story
well told -- a child overwhelmed
by a blessed gift becoming happily
emotional. We are lacrimal in a very
poignant sense~ for what reaches the
surface, through trial and error, while
intense, outwardly drippy, is substance
of a great connecting conduit. And despite
ambient fluctuations of internal springs,
over-all life is devotedly nurtured by a
Maternal Sky~ keeping dear watch,
moistening and drying according to
the ripening needs of her children.
Fair lady, look down, see me in this hole,
beaten by a creature to be dreaded,
this ill-made, unsightly, disfigured, troll,
conquered by a monster many-headed.
The moment mother screamed and I was born,
the beast's heads stared upon me filled with hate.
I pared an ugly one that was called scorn,
and left home when I could to meet my fate.
Looming precariously from above,
the brute left me here in my final hour,
delivering dire blows - first pain, then love.
Dear lady, please place a futile flower
as I bid farewell to the woe and strife,
and the monster, now dead, but once called life.
No greater love than a mother’s
for her children
‘til the world saw a father’s for his son
What I recognize as art, of course,
Is only seeing that which surfaces
from likeness already inside of me –
we physically and spiritually relate
at least tacitly sense before
we can begin to grasp. Even when I
inquisitively imagine
were I oblivious, on all levels
of consciousness, it would be no different
than a concept of God to the Atheist.
The Atheist reasons…people of faith
intuitively accept. The future mother knew
the blessing in her womb, before the
ultrasound. Christ connects intimately
through legacy of Love.
Lillies placed upon your chest,
beneath the earth you're laid to rest.
I visit with tears to heal my soul,
they water the soil that's black as coal.
The earth is moving beneath my feet,
Your lillies have popped up from beneath.
I smile and take a refreshing breath,
The lillies have grown from your chest.
Straight from the womb and your heart,
You gave the lillies a good start.
We are strong and bold and beautiful,
My tears reached your soul it's undisputable.
In thy untroubled ashes may our distance be light.
We live in one another still.
Dark color angel , she speaks before the wind;
Dark color angel , her hope is in her skin;
Dark color angel., cheese illuminous;
Birth from heaven the motherland;
She is the mother, the womb of all Mankind;
5/23/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
from a mother’s love come children who behave
why’s the world then filled with knaves
securely sheltering it in her shell
nurturing while within
heeding to each gentle whisper
to each tap from tiny feet
in time She curls it in her embrace
caresses it in her hug
fondles it with boundless care
cuddles it with sweetish love-
when fully fledged, sailing the high sea
will it care for the cowry shell, its first home!