Son Mother Poems | Examples
These Son Mother poems are examples of Mother poems about Son. These are the best examples of Mother Son poems written by international poets.
My parents they did take me
when but a child
to the shores of Lake Victoria
where, after a while,
with not much more to do
but admire the view,
my Mother noticed,
patience wearing thin,
bubbles rising...
yes, you guessed,
always causing trouble, I had waded in.
“Oh, for heaven's sake,
you may want to save your son,”
was the comment she did make.
“What!” my Father he replied,
“Me, jump in the lake?”
“Afraid of Nile crocodiles?
Mum smiled and queried him.
“No, nothing of the sort,
it's just that... I can't swim!”
Dad sternly did retort.
What more can I say, words they fail,
other than,
“Mother rescued me that day
and here am I to tell the tale.”
In the wind the Holy Spirit
Has turned and twirled
He has orchestrated conception
To all the Mary's around the world
One Mary she stands alone
The mother of our Savior
Blessed among women
Still in need of saving
Another Mary stands alone
The first to the risen Christ
As we all need to witness to
The Resurrection and The Life
But we are all broken vessels
Our fractures need repair
His Way, His Truth, His Life (and kintsugi)
Will help us, to get us there
So not every Mary will birth a Messiah
Or will see Him with their eyes
But every Mary who is able
will be blessed to be with child
Shadows creep along
sunlight chases them away
moon light unites all
Life lost, she bore;
The cost of war.
With soft touch of hands
mother smooths creases of fear—
folding in embrace
touching quivering candle
fingers humming haunting hymns
Love requires no hands
it invents its own language—
wing, beak, paw and lick
a body curled up to care
whispers —'you're safe'
Whales cuddle up close
dolphins ring rosy halos
seals seek safe harbors
penguins bow against the wind
birds soothe with beaks and feather
Love without fingers
a current that wraps and lifts
a tide unbroken
it cradles the heart within
steadies the faltering steps
Such love needs not touch—
it listens, watches, imbibes
hovering in care
joining two hearts together
with spirit of motherhood
That quiet-ness,
middle of the night,
insomniac,
sleep as it gets bright
toss turn sides & back....
drift to afternoon wake,
stomach rumbles,
to an oven that bakes,
and is humbling.
The fall is a mind's wrap
of how the co-existence
leaves us in scrambles,
Our mother gave us our names,
and euphoria is always the blame.
Scrambling in dirt and even worse,
Limo carries another hearse
She loved her child through rivers and mountains,
copied sutras with trembling hands,
offered them at dawn, noon, dusk, and night—
each tear a stream flowing in silence.
She loved her child across endless miles,
chanting through tears like mountain rain.
The wind carried her voice to distant woods,
cold rain soaking into her soul.
Then Mother became mist, fading in midday sun.
Then Mother became fragrance, drifting through dreams.
Then Mother became cloud, white hair at heaven’s edge.
Then Mother became sunlight, a shadow behind the hill.
At midnight, I turn in a distant town,
reading the last line of her sutra.
Her words overflow with longing—
transcribing the Buddha’s teaching across the river.
O love! A forest of white hair
flies back to cover birth and death.
A bird cries from the farthest sky—
I lift my head, and hear the sound of the Unborn.
--- By Nguyen Giac Phan Tan Hai
In the meadow, a tragedy befell
a mother butterfly by a wishing well.
She'd wished for a son who could fly all crooked,
but a witch's curse prevailed, so wicked.
Her firstborn had the preposterous trait
of flying up and staying straight.
I'll be free to kind-ness of daisies
gently trembling through the void,
and the softness of held hands
which are offering raisins,
without a trick of quicksand.
There's seeds that has a need
of watering & the showering,
Grows into roses with its thorns
defense mechanism vulnerability
can be sweet and leave you torn.
A mother cradles her newborn
and will show her teeth
if you interrupt her breath
into her child's new lungs,
and a simple harmony sang
She's now a bee to become....
a shriek,
a high-pitched scream echoed against the walls,
lightning flashed,
thunder rumbled deep and hard into my chest.
pain,
tightness,
ache,
sorrow.
it cannot be real, this is not happening, I cannot believe it.
to never again see,
talk,
hug,
love on,
joke,
dance.
our son was –
our only boy was –
our eldest child was –
our headache was –
our heart was –
our angel is –
forever 26.
Feeling warm,
Mommy’s cold,
sense of duty,
Mommy stays,
First of four clouds,
She clears the sky,
So light can shine,
On the cloud she raised.
when I was
too small for words,
my mother would dream me.
I’d say
“A”
and she understood I wanted eternity.
The next day,
she’d place it in my spoon.
her hands
did not turn on light bulbs.
they were light bulbs,
they were clay vessels through which flowed
a light tired from too much godliness.
when she entered the room,
it wasn’t her who entered,
it was a silence that had lost its voice
in a burned temple,
and had come searching for it inside me.
the angel beneath the bed
came out like a healed shadow
and whispered to me:
“Now you can sleep,
your mother’s hands are keeping watch.”
and I,
a child uttering
his first prayer,
looked into my mother’s palms
as if into a holy book,
unknown,
but true.
once,
an old woman from the village told me:
“Women like your mother
do not come into the world, they pour forth,
like light from icons
or like God from a child.”
since then,
when I think of light,
I do not see the sun,
but my mom’s hands
wiping the dust
from the face of the world.
George was a prankster, at least one screw loose
Peed in a bottle, tagged it orange juice
His mom drank it all down
Then she started to frown
Her face turned red, then white ~ then chartreuse
You were my first and truest guide,
With open arms and heart so wide.
A listening ear through sleepless nights,
A steady hand in all my fights.
You taught me love, you taught me grace,
You held me in your warm embrace.
But I, your son, was not always kind—
I lost my way, left truth behind.
I broke your heart with foolish pride,
Got in trouble, chose to hide.
The law came knocking more than once,
And I played the part of the reckless son.
There came a time I wouldn't speak,
We went for months, or maybe weeks.
A silence deep, cold and wide—
The pain we both felt, hard to hide.
But love, it lingers, doesn't fade,
Even in the mess we made.
You never stopped, you never ran,
Still saw the boy behind the man.
And when the time was right, we talked—
On softened ground, together walked.
With tears and hope, we both forgave,
And chose to heal, not dig a grave.
You are my mother, my truest friend,
The one who stayed until the end.
For all the wrong, I made it through,
Because of love—because of you.
Scott W