Expectant Mother
she is gentle-yet strong-meek yet bold.
she is a woman to behold.
she is a expectant mother as we can see.
waiting for her child to be set free.
sleepng in the fetal position-does'nt help her disposition.
feeling the kicks at home and at work
and thinking that all men are jerks.
she wonders about the nine months that she must go through.
if she will have the strength to survive
and if her husband will be by her side.
when she is in her chair at night
she sees her stomach as a glorious sight.
there is a child in her waiting to be fed
and does'nt want her to go to bed.
the baby wants to feel their mothers touch
and the soothing words that she speaks.
this is what they seek.
when it comes for the child to see the world.
for the first time and feels the cool air
they look for their mothers warmth to share.
the joy and pride that the expectant mother feels
is something that can't be concealed.
she will cry tears of joy and pain
and hopes her husband will do the same.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A Mothers Love
A mothers love is everlasting, forever
A mother and her child will always be together
A mothers love for her child through the smiles and the tears
Will stay strong for years and years
A mothers love will never die
Even if sometimes her child makes her cry
A mother can really reach up high, and touch the sky
When next to her is her child
A mothers love will reach beyond the grave
When a mother is with her child she will always be brave
Two children or one, daughter or son
More precious than the stars above
You can never take a mothers love
poem by Natasha Potter
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How Beautiful Is Pregnancy
A man is so glad to know- that inside you
His child grows.
The most beautiful thing on this earth
Is a woman giving birth.
As her stomach starts to grow
And her soft caressing hands begin to show
You'll see her face take on a radiating glow.
She will see life in a different way
As her motherly instincts come into play.
her body which she had taken for granted before
Is about to open a new door.
This is the door to life
and as you do the pushing pains
From this moment on your life will change.
And when you feel that child stretching
Those walls of life
You'll know it was worth the pains and sacrifice.
You may see its head and then its face
Searching this unfamiliar place.
Looking for the warmth that it knew
When it was inside of you.
It will take some time for the child to adjust
But it'll recall your gentle touch
Now the first step comes into place
When you look at each others face.
An indefinable feeling that you can't put into words
But for nine months this child has heard.
The beating of its mothers heart
Had become as one
And a new life had begun.
Now you have become what GOD intended
A mother of life - of hopes and dreams
And all that is seen and unseen.
Look deeply into that child s eyes
And it will take you where you've
Never been before - as it opens
Up its souls door.
This is what - 'as a man'- I see
And you can't take that away from me.
poem by Louis Rams
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A Mother
A mother shows the child the world
A mother is its world when small
A mother shows the child what's love
A mother loves her child like a doll!
A mother makes the home and bed
A mother cares for all at home
A mother trains the child to walk
And stand on own, perfectly talk.
A mother is the teacher prime
A mother moulds the character
A mother shows the child to pray
And trust the unseen God all life.
A mother is the child's best friend
A mother knows its needs and wants
A mother cares for child when sick
And feels so proud, when child achieves.
Children, thank God for a good mother
On ‘Mother's day! '
Copyright by Dr John Celes 13-05-12
poem by John Celes
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A Tribute to Mothers on ‘Mothers’ Day ‘09’
A mother keeps the human race going!
She gives the kid(s) the important training;
She does the baby’s cleaning and nursing;
She tends to children’s bathing and cleaning.
A mother is the crux in kid(s) growing!
And children into adults keep turning;
She does the child’s dressing and nail-paring;
She sings the songs when child goes off sleeping!
A mother keeps the home and does cooking;
About the children all, she keeps thinking;
Most days, she does the chores and dish-washing;
She hardly gets some time for own sleeping!
A mother loves to work and keep slogging!
Sometimes, in vain for help, she keeps begging;
Some modern moms take to even blogging;
A few spend much time at husbands, nagging!
A mother knows the art of good loving!
Some are good in punning, joking, rhyming;
A mother teaches kids at fine writing;
She spends the night in ‘about all’, dreaming!
A mother soul is fixed to kid(s) rearing!
To problems all, she gives a good hearing;
Nothing amiss can escape her seeing;
At times, she gives the kid(s) a good beating!
A mother tells kid(s) to be God-fearing!
Some mothers can be bold and ev’n daring;
Some mothers can’t stay without arguing;
Good mothers believe in giving / sharing!
A mother is a great human being!
When someone leaves, she keeps her hand(s) waving;
For love sometimes, some mothers keep craving;
The world somehow keeps most mothers crying!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-13-2009
poem by John Celes
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Breastmilk
Of craftiness and subtleness!
But if i have breatsmilk,
I will feed my child all day.
Like a caring mother who cheerishes her children,
I will feed my child all day long.
Your baby needs breastmilk like,
A woman after hwer own heart;
And you are a devoted woman of a higher rank.
Sisters, Mothers, Women!
Of the sweet smelling aroma of your breastmilk;
But the family in heaven is like a child with the mother.
Stand the test and be obedient in all things,
Give your baby food and forget about your phone calls!
For you are not my mother and,
You are not an African woman.
I know how it feels and,
I know who you are;
But feed your baby with breastmilk at all times.
Like a house without hands,
Give your baby breastmilk to keep the child healthy;
For out of the blessings of the Creator you've got this child.
The door is now open on you,
The truth is now set for you,
The care is now in your own hands,
But your child really need this milk.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Mother
How can a mother forget her child,
the child who is conceived nine months in the womb
the child that is cradled at daytime,
night time until dawn?
How can a mother forget her child?
How can a mother forget her child
the child who after the flow of months
has learned to stand and run?
How can a mother forget her child,
the child whose mouth imitates her mother`s tongue,
the child who after a year or two can say,
'Mama, I love you'?
How can a mother forget her child,
the child who is so dear in her own heart and mind,
the child that reveals the mystery of creation,
the beauty of growth and human interaction.
the infinity of our own universe
within its finite linear time?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Life for mother and child
Life for mother and child remains same
Whether black or white they claim
Nature is hard and luck is not fair
Wind blows harshly but not the air
How many months of heavy load
Spending time on open road
Struggling to earn for new born baby
Still looking towards sky and feel happy
Not all mothers may be that much lucky
The birth of baby may not be smooth but very risky
The sun may be at its peak
Mother may cry in pain and feel very weak
Beast may be just dry
As no nourishment even after good try
Yet it is allowed to suck
So many dreams are struck
Mother wants full strength and wellbeing of child
She is there to bear all odds and still feels not wild
The child is like pearl in her eyes and very precious
She tries to protect from sun, rain and serves continuous
African mothers have suffered a lot
Against nature and human beings fought
Still no hope of peace in near future
What to talk of all children for sure
They definitely demand an answer
Only God has answer or with some fewer
It is man made crisis and prevails unabated
All mothers are alike and simply equated
Where there is nothing, only black color fits
On arrival there is distribution of sweets
He is very much on the face of earth
And remain so till the arrival of death
Let us not degrade mother’s position
In all the seasons she bears same composition
Whether in desert, hot sun or in heavy rain
She has all kinds of hostilities to face with pain
I wish to bow my head to all mothers
Forgive us for all our sins and don’t bother
We love you all and cherish too
You are one that never goes off mind and stays through
We love your company and may want till the end
You are the only one as companion and true friend
You can never be black or white in our heart
You are embodiment of love and lovely piece of living art
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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God's Helpers
Every mother in the world when they're giving birth
accepts the labor pains that come because she knows their worth.
As contractions come and go, she silently does pray
her baby will be healthy in every single way.
She has felt the fluttering and quickening of new ife.
Sometimes feeling peaceful and sometimes feeling strife,
She wonders how she'll handle the responsibility
of caring for a child that hopefully will be
all she's ever hoped for and prayed for many nights.
When she hears the babe's first cry it takes her to new heights.
She's never had that feeling. It cannot be replaced.
She gives thanks many times for having been so graced.
A mother is God's helper in so many ways.
She praises as she raises her child and she always stays
faithful 'til her dying breath takes her and then
she's sure God will take over and watch her child again.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL MOTHERS
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Mother Earth And Sons
the child insistent
shakes the tree and so
the fruits fall on the ground
some not ripe though
and he does not
eat it
what a waste
but mother never says
a word
the child grows
spoiled as mother is
tolerant
the man remains a
child and mothers get old
he shakes the world
mother earth now
as silent as mothers are
the earth shakes
and all the children are buried
under the cracks
the fire within
like hell burns
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Precious Moments of Mothering
Here inside this church
We sat on the same pew.
While others focused
their eyes at the front aisle
and towards the pulpit,
here beside me, I found
this woman cuddling
her own baby.
She held her child
close to her bosom,
hugged her
with all her warmth,
whispered words
to her ears
and drowned her child
with her loving smiles.
The child giggled,
closed her eyes and slept,
secured and contented
in her mother's robust arms
cuddled and assured
of a peaceful world.
Here beside this woman
I remembered my three girls
who now have moved out
to manage their own life.
Here on a Sunday in this church
I journeyed to the past days.
This woman's hugging
her own child
This mother's enfolding
her child by her two
strong arms
This mother's peace
while holding her child
touched deeply my heart.
Silently tears ran through
my cheeks as silent whispers
of such a great wave of emotions
of missing my own children
while recalling the precious moments
of mothering a child.
____________________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The Tale Of The Trucker's Life
The young bride sits alone in her house,
waiting for her farm hand husband to return to her lonely bosom.
Enters the husband, tired, and cranky.
He goes to the stereo, hooks up his headphones,
and falls asleep listening to country, and western music.
The bride long since gone to bed alone.
The young mother, and her toddler son
in front of the TV watching movies while the
husband/father works third shift at Wal-Mart 25 miles away.
The mother takes her son to his baseball games,
explains why daddy can't come,
because he decided to be a truck driver.
She is mother, father, and sole teacher to there young son.
She wipes away his tears when he is hurt,
Comforts him when he is sick,
and makes excuses for the absent father
who never has acted like he loved their child.
Who wipes away the tears that the
mother/wife sheds every time she sees
how much their son misses his daddy.
Their little boy puts his arm around his
mother's shoulders and with a hug,
he says, 'mom it will be all right.'
Does the trucker miss his family?
Does he feel the same pain, and sorrow?
He must not care, for he stays gone sometimes four,
sometimes six weeks in a row,
only coming home long enough to make love.
Never does he interact with his son, not really.
The wife, and son now lay in the cold, hard ground,
never to rise again. Now it is too late
for the old trucker to tell them how he really felt.
He sits alone in an old rocking chair,
staring at old, faded photos of his wife,
and son, but he is not in any of the pictures.
He stands in front of the pearly gates of Heaven,
he sees his wife, and son just on the other side,
But they don't recognize him.
So goes the tale of the trucker's life.
poem by Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson
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A Poem for Mothers, and Mine
The love of a mother is beyond compare
One who dearly loves and is always there
From scraped knees
To falls from trees
A mother cares for all
From “I told you so”
To “That’s a no-no! ”
A mother answers the call
Mothers cook, mothers clean, some even work a job
Even with all their strength, a mother still knows how to sob
Mothers should be honored for all they have done
Every day of the year, not just one
There is nothing better than a mother’s love
For her time on this earth thank God above
A mother’s love endures forever
Its unbreakable bonds no on can sever
No matter how much I have grown
My mother’s love is always shown
She has become a mentor and a guide
Within her always I am able to confide
No better payment for her I can find
Then to love her with heart, and with mind
To the one who bore me; I share my emotion
To the one who raised me; Absolute devotion
To this woman I express my joy
You will always be my “mommy” and I your “baby boy”
poem by Glaedr the poet
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Child
Child,
God knows
how much I love you.
Child,
I may not be
the kind of mother
that you want,
I may not have given you
the kind of life
that you want,
but I'm your mother
and no one can change that.
Child,
you are so dear to me,
and all through my life
I wish nothing
but your happiness.
Child,
forgive this mother
for not having the strength
to protect you from sadness
of being apart
from your loved one.
But child,
I am more sad
when you cry for a man
whom I think
not worthy of you.
So child,
please bear the pain
because I believe
that somewhere
there is someone
worthy of your love.
Child,
trust me
you will find that man,
if you just set yourself free
from your wrong love.
Child,
I'm your mother...
I have raised you,
and I know
what is best for you.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Melancholy Child
A baby with a baby just barely seventeen
My mother mourned her innocence
While she bounced on her knee
A daddy on the road added to her tears and trials
Like silver rain they fell upon this melancholy child
The sounds of my childhood still linger in my song
My mother's lullaby that train that ran behind our home
A whippoorwill on a window sill - it should have made me smile
But everything sounds lonesome to a melancholy child
Now a restless blood runs in our family
I thought I could outrun the emptiness inside of me
So I went a little crazy, went a little wild
Trying to outdistance my own melancholy child
I met a kind and gentle man who thinks the world of me
And when he looks my way it is a woman that he sees
But when I can't explain to him the tears that fill my eyes
He takes me in his arms and rocks his melancholy child
You take a black Irish temper and some solemn Cherokee
A Southern sense of humor and you got someone like me
There are thorns on every rose to this I'm reconciled
They're just a little sharper to a melancholy child
And in my own babe's eyes I see the signs of a melancholy child
Heaven help us all, another melancholy child
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Every Child
For every child who cries at night
Alone with shame in pain and fright
For every child who wants so much
To only feel a gentle touch
For the beaten child, who cries in pain
Whose tears run silent, like the rain
For the child used to satisfy lust
Who never learns to love or trust
For the child taken from her home
And made to feel so all alone
For the child whose home is just a shell
Where life becomes a living hell
For the child who smiles but cannot feel
Because of scars too deep to heal
For every child who yearns for love
I hope and pray to God above
To hear your cries and heal your pain
And give you back your life again
poem by Ashleigh Gaffney
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Being A Mother
MOTHER! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
MOTHER IS A WORD
MOTHER IS A PERSON
MOTHER IS A WOMEN
BUT WAT IS REALLY A MOTHER?
MOTHER! ! ! ! ! !
MOTHER IS WOMEN WHO GIVES BIRTH
NO........
MOTHER IS A WOMEN WHO CARES OF HER BABY
MOTHER IS A WOMEN WHO IS WILLING TO GIVE HER LIFE FOR THEIR BABY'S
ANY WOMEN CAN HAVE A BABY
ANY WOMEN CAN GIVE BIRTH
ANY WOMEN CAN BE CALLED MOM
BUT ONLY A REAL WOMEN
ONLY A REAL MOTHER CAN TAKE OVER HER RESPOSABILITIES
ONLY A WOMEN CAN DO WHATS BEST FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER! ! ! ! ! ! !
A MOTHER LIKE ME
A MOTHER LIKE U
A MOTHER WHO CRIES FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER WHO PRAYS FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER WHO GIVES HER LIFE FOR THEIR CHILD
A MOTHER WHO STARVES TO FEED HER CHILD
A MOTHER WHO IS WILLING TO SLEEP IN THE COLD FOR THEIR CHILD,
A MOTHER WHO MAKES HER CHILDREN FEEL SAFE IN HER ARMS,
BEING THAT MOTHER! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
BEING THAT MOTHER TAKES ALOT OF WOMEN N A PERSON
BEING A MOTHER........
poem by Leticia Sanchez
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She Sinful Or Wild
All or nothing at all
her father had said
and it seemed right
until she met Harpoon
and he seemed her
Mr Right the one she
had been waiting for
the one she'd dreamed
about but then it all
went wrong and he
became Mr Wrong
and oh yes that was
the downfall that was
the way to her deep
depression and that
episode in the bath
when she tried to
drown herself as her
mother had before her
and she discovered her
as a child coming home
from school and the
door was ajar and when
she went in there was
her mother with her
wrists slit and blood
and her mother drowned
and dead and now sitting
there in her mother's
chair her father some
place her husband poking
some other and all or
nothing at all seemed all
there was left apart from
the few books on the shelf
the Bill Burroughs her mother
had read and left and that
Bukowski book she'd found
in some second shop and the
battered Bible which her
father had beat her about
the head and backside with
as a child when her father
had been boozing or she
had been sinful or wild.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Beauty of a Mother
The beauty of a woman starts
When her womb begins to grow
The child that she'll give birth
Soon will call her, “my mother”
The beauty of a mother reigns
When her arms cradle her child
And her charm shines within
Her heart full of love and care
The beauty of mother un-fades
When her hands guide her child
In all places walking side by side
To protect her child from danger
The beauty of a mother is her brain
To teach her child to read and write
To let the child know the difference
Of what is wrong and what is right
The beauty of a mother is her act
To treat her child without compare
To list none of whatsoever is best
For her child is the gem of her life
Then the beauty of mother reflects
From the eyes of her child in return
To respect, love, and care for her
When age and time set them apart
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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A Child With The Blues
Could have never known that when losin'
Could hurt you so very bad
Could have never known that when chosin'
Could make you feels so very sad
I don't know what to do
I just feel so confused
I'm a child with the blues
Take your time, smell the flowers
Oh yeah
Make a smile for yourself
Yourself
Girl, don't make livin' so hard
So hard, I keep tellin' myself
I keep tellin' myself
Feels like I'm goin' away
Sometimes it ain't all damn fair
I'm a child with the blues
Baby, blue
Sisters, sisters
I know you're watchin' me
There are a lot of games reachin' for you
Constantly
When you think you're grown
You're entering the unknown
Baby, check yourself
Brace yourself
Face yourself
Protect yourself
Ooh, feels like my life is just existing
And I'm missing someone
It's hard to replace the simple fact
It's 'cause my lover is gone
Tell it to ya ....
And you're walkin' in my shoes
You're a chils with the blues
I can't stop the flow, can't stop it
Of the wet tears in my eyes
And if you're any other many kind of women
Woman in pain, gotta rely, rely
Same emotion we share
Movin' fast but goin' nowhere
Like a child with the blues
A child with the blues
Baby, blue
This child is blue
Show no blues
A child with the blues, ooh
Blue...
song performed by by Erykah Badu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Could be a cruel mother
My husband’s mother loved,
Cared and nursed my son,
More than she did her son,
Pouring her sweats and time.
Someone caring my son
Must be a source of pride
To me beside a relief.
Yet I felt most perturbed.
The child grew under her care;
The child found a good time
To be found near her
With its back towards me.
The lady must exit.
She did as I planned.
The child fell sick and felt
Bad about her absence.
I’ve been much relieved.
The child has much grieved.
I became much spirited
And the child, dispirited.
The welfare of the child
Was not my concern, ho!
My sole concern was that
It was under my spell.
Aren’t I a cruel mother?
21.09.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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