Mother Child Poems - Poems about Mother Child

Mother, child are you bleeding Watching the world come down The doors are locked, the streets are cold Are you buried in the world's soul Spiritually entwined To live until you die Mother hold my soul And sew my pockets full of rubies Take the candy from my teeth And be please buried with me Child holder of my soul Asking help and talking tall Bury...

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I only cry on the inside; Lamenting the child who's hiding there. No one can know what is buried. It's a weight that I must bear. You may marvel at my strength; Such fortitude is often rare But all alone late at night, I sink into despair. The child will not let me sleep. She needs the comfort of her mother. I've searched a lifetime...

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Get out of that or I'll skin you alive she would say Me and that dog would head for the woods right away We were not abused Just a saying used Because me and that dog got a hug at end of day...

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You can never be ready, she said I wasn't what you expected. Listen, No one told me "postpartum depression" Until I saw you in the kitchen With my baby sister at your feet, White hot tears, A savage grief, Out of nowhere. I was told to go play with my dolls. Listen, I thought it was my fault, So I hid in my dark closet. Listen, When you couldn't...

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Some say your words act as a balm A fleet of sweet tidings Sailing into a gray dawn. With white sails riding On the heels of a grand mast That sways without invoking A need for true ballast. It seems as though your rage That spars with mine among the waves Has now chosen to disengage From me among the graves... Of sailors lost at sea Displaced...

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Hear Harry’s hysterical, startling scream. Little spooky spiders made him run to the extreme. It wasn’t a fairytale fantasy dream; the cobwebs created a crazy football team. Mother thought she’d heard their scary scheme, so she planned to question the Queen. I thought they were merely mean, moving to our happy home, creating a scary scene....

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She misses the time before she was a mother, the life she once had now hidden, under cover. Before pasta and paint, and plastic packed lunches replaced lie ins and coffees, and trusting her own hunches. She yearns for washed hair and fresh eyes without lines, but knows, deep down, it’s for him her heart pines....

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Coldest day yet, 'fore new bairn was christened, mother's muse foretold as hearth embers failed. Scripture held tight, she quietly listened, as cradled creature withered, weeped, and wailed. What secret kept a mother by proxy, pallid face adorned in humanlike form. Life borne so different any other, unabashed at life's ex utero norm. Green-gilled coveting mother's pride they wait, singing forgotten changling's mirthful...

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I was so glad to welcome you And it was such a joy to hold you Never wondered how life could’ve been without you For I wish My womb could never have carried you Feed baby feed on some milk Do not cry with fear i am right here Close your ears listen to what...

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Awake or asleep, I dream poetry. What, how and when to write? I think about it day and night. When I sit deep in my thoughts, Searching for the right words, And when I count the syllables, Using the fingers of my hands, People think that I am mad! For meals, if I fail to respond To the calls of my better half, And when...

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More precious than pearls are they; Diamonds come not near in value; Their weight impossible to be Measured in carats of gold. Oceans carry not such vast Turbulence… They flow from broken eyes, But stem from a shattered heart: Squeezed and crushed, Beating arrhythmically in Loss devastating, pain perpetual. Each drop of sorrow falls upon the Meadows in heaven, Flowers bloom in their millions… Angels gather bouquets of devotion...

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The love of a mother fills your heart with nothing but joy The love of a mother makes you fearless,brave and humble This love is what many say is the most beautiful thing to exist It is a mystery that none have solved It is evidence that peace can exist,because mother bring you peace in a...

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Poor Blue. Written about a visit to the butchers with my mum, in Liverpool, when I was a child Poor Blue To butchers I went With mother to spend Some money on meat for the week For two days a week My mother cooked meat, Boiled tatties, with carrots and peas This did coincide With baths as child As meat and a bath...

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Dear mother, I wish I was small again, Like how you wish I was. Maybe then, You’d hold me like you used to....

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we share the stars, paths unknown to one another. they call out to us and we remember - we meet ourselves walking together....

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