Child Mother Poems | Examples
These Child Mother poems are examples of Mother poems about Child. These are the best examples of Mother Child poems written by international poets.
Absorbed in a story
disengaged from the world
Embryo position assumed
the wonder of birth
Characters larger than life
plot nary a stall
Mother smiles fondly
she, who’s directed it all
Like a morning after
But with a new born now in tow
The euphoria of birth’s endorphins
Not yet downed by postpartum blues.
Forget the labor unions
And their favored status this holiday
This is really a national holiday
About women, and what they are best at
And indispensable for
Children!
Mother’s Day is great of course
As a Hallmark celebration
But Labor Day is equally about mothers
But because of what mothers
Are actually mothers of
Children!
Happy post Labor Day everyone
Because we are all someone’s child.
(9/8/26)
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.
Driving on a two-lane road,
my mind focused and easy,
no worries, no mental load,
I felt good, free and breezy.
Chatting with my backseat child,
enjoying together time,
our moods were playful styled.
All things were surely fine.
A sports car came way too close,
then it slowed, but it did not pass.
Just then, my son’s question rose,
“Why is that man doing that?”
“Son, it’s how traffic news is signaled
when drivers' voices cannot be heard.
Middle fingers mimic the crass tones
of a vile species called 'Greeting Birds."
Hey daddy, look at me.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
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!
free flowing hair, wistfully twisting in childhood.
SHE plants her feet firmly;
HER foundation of safety and security.
HER heart beats petals of joy;
HER inner mouth curves upwards.
but like a sturdy oak, with boughs on hips,
and like an owl, with steady gaze,
HER eyes will follow the girl’s date as he pulls her outdoors,
for he forewarned HER, this teen in a trench coat.
SHE adapts to the darkness of the Black Forest.
Just as a butterfly
Knows its worldly meadow
And lands on springtime buds
Leaving special footprints~
Mothers teach their children
With true love-filled knowledge
Shaping their existence
As bearers of new life
A mother's figure from my dreams,
shining bright through the sun beams.
You come like an angel so very sweet,
as many butterflies come to greet.
A world is now filled with love,
together can we both fly like a dove?
Blessed is the mother
who gives, and gives,
and then writes a poem
to know she still lives.
My giddy girl bowed to pray.
Please God, would it be okay?
Send tropical snow this year.
Freeze the sun that I can cheer,
"White Christmas!", our anthem true,
Powdered ice-cream on Mom's shoe.
It's a yummy chocolate bath
What joy to play in slushy mud ~
Mom said to have fun !
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
You might not like me
after you read this—
but this poem has been
simmering in my soul for years.
If what I say
doesn’t sit well with you,
please know:
I’m just a girl who loves Jesus,
and a girl with a pen.
They come first—
this little soul.
They come before
the teacher’s job,
the nursing degree,
before the sales assistant role,
or the receptionist desk.
If you would go hungry,
or be left without shelter,
then this poem
is not for you.
But if you can survive
without the pay—
then could you dare to say:
I can…
but I chose not to.
Because, instead—
I chose you,
little one.
Toddler tugs at mom’s apron
He’d like to have one more cookie
Nice try, pumpkin ~ dinner’s ready
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
His joy shone while sweet baking and icing with me,
shone on me, him and our cat for he was just three.