The Virgin
. Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
With the least shade of thought to sin allied.
Woman! above all women glorified,
Our tainted nature's solitary boast;
Purer than foam on central ocean tost;
Brighter than eastern skies at daybreak strewn
With fancied roses, than the unblemished moon
Before her wane begins on heaven's blue coast;
Thy image falls to earth. Yet some, I ween,
Not unforgiven the suppliant knee might bend,
As to a visible Power, in which did blend
All that was mixed and reconciled in thee
Of mother's love with maiden purity,
Of high with low, celestial with terrene!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Related quotes
Lxv.
The mother’s grace that I do awake
The mother who forever looks after me
In golden light of the blessed daybreak
To crimson evening, in both I do agree
Mother of the children under her wings
Mother of trees, of rocks and of the rivers
Of thee Mother Nature dose my song sings
All that we know, to know thou art cleaver
With it has thee fashioned all living creatures
Under thou grace, because of it all things are
Deep within thy mercy you seek to capture
We poets who think thee God are not bizarre.
O Mother Nature, mother of us all
Before thee do we stand in utter awl.
poem by David E. Patton
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Sonnet: Mary, Mother of God
O Heavenly Mother of Jesus Christ!
O Virgin Queen, our Mother too, divine
Who bore Him, yet became disciple first,
O Mother Great of Velankanni shrine.
O Mary, born without Original Sin!
Loving Mother of God’s begotten Son;
Conceived by Holy Spirit, still virgin;
Queen of Heaven, crowned stars and sun!
From earth, Mary assumed into Heaven;
The serpent Satan failed to win, because;
Mother of Perpetual Help for all men,
Mother of Sorrows saw Son die on cross.
O Mary, Intercessor, Lord’s with thee!
Pray for sinners, on earth and Purgatory.
13-6-2001
poem by John Celes
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Childhood. (From The Danish)
There was a time when I was very small,
When my whole frame was but an ell in height;
Sweetly, as I recall it, tears do fall,
And therefore I recall it with delight.
I sported in my tender mother's arms,
And rode a-horseback on best father's knee;
Alike were sorrows, passions and alarms,
And gold, and Greek, and love, unknown to me,
Then seemed to me this world far less in size,
Likewise it seemed to me less wicked far;
Like points in heaven, I saw the stars arise,
And longed for wings that I might catch a star.
I saw the moon behind the island fade,
And thought, 'Oh, were I on that island there,
I could find out of what the moon is made,
Find out how large it is, how round, how fair!'
Wondering, I saw God's sun, through western skies,
Sink in the ocean's golden lap at night,
And yet upon the morrow early rise,
And paint the eastern heaven with crimson light;
And thought of God, the gracious Heavenly Father,
Who made me, and that lovely sun on high,
And all those pearls of heaven thick-strung together,
Dropped, clustering, from his hand o'er all the sky.
With childish reverence, my young lips did say
The prayer my pious mother taught to me:
'O gentle God! oh, let me strive alway
Still to be wise, and good, and follow Thee!'
So prayed I for my father and my mother,
And for my sister, and for all the town;
The king I knew not, and the beggar-brother,
Who, bent with age, went, sighing, up and down.
They perished, the blithe days of boyhood perished,
And all the gladness, all the peace I knew!
Now have I but their memory, fondly cherished;--
God! may I never lose that too!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Nature's Sellout
Nature's Sellout
By Lori Triggs
Copyrighted August 26,2009
A sprinkling of sunshine to sellout on the plants
While mother nature wrapped up in her shawl,
She is watching nature’s splendors around her...
It really is a paradise:
A paradise of mother nature
From earths dust on nature’s crust.
The dewy drops on mushroom caps
Are nothing less than mother nature tears,
From rolling laughter... it’s perhaps:
Mother nature with claps of thunder with lighting.
Are mother nature tears throughout the years
The crystal glow in woodland streams.
Reflects the light of mother nature
Instead of sunshine, as it seems,
When mother nature showers fall to earth:
When mother nature falls to the earth.
It seems like sunshine on the streams
The twinkling in the starry sky.
Is nothing less than mother nature
That interrupt the flares on high,
The glow of nature’s moonlit blinks:
The moonlit blinks are mother nature
That twinkle high in starry sky.
poem by Lori Triggs
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Ocean Of Affection Vavroovahana Patra
Mother’s love is an ocean of affection;
Earth is beautiful with mother’s creation.
Her love attracts sons and daughters;
In her lap they are sweet lovely creatures.
Earth smiles with mother’s dedication;
Mothers are innocent lovely women of creation.
Children derive peace serving mother;
They are Deities in the lap of creator.
Mother’s cosy face attracts day and night;
She is a Ganga of Purity and Delight.
Is a boo9k of inspiration;
Poet’s are renowned with mother’s benediction.
Mother’s affection Eternal on Earth;
She is an Ocean of Love and Mirth.
Is the incarnation of Tranquility;
Is a River of Delight.
Mother inspires to be great on Earth;
Serving the Mother glorious becomes human birth.
She toils hard for sons and daughters;
They are sweet lovely society’s creator.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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The Lynching
His Spirit in smoke ascended to high heaven.
His father, by the cruelest way of pain,
Had bidden him to his bosom once again;
The awful sin remained still unforgiven.
All night a bright and solitary star
(Perchance the one that ever guided him,
Yet gave him up at last to Fate's wild whim)
Hung pitifully o'er the swinging char.
Day dawned, and soon the mixed crowds came to view
The ghastly body swaying in the sun
The women thronged to look, but never a one
Showed sorrow in her eyes of steely blue;
And little lads, lynchers that were to be,
Danced round the dreadful thing in fiendish glee.
poem by Claude McKay
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Mother
Mother 'o' mother of mine,
Who will forget thee...
Earth and heaven enfused in thee,
Ye suffered with shaping pine.
Mother 'o' mother of mine...
Thy love, bliss from heaven,
Thy words, a calm breeze
Ye the morning sun shine.....
Mother 'o' mother of mine,
Holiest among holy ye be
Magical music thy lullby
Thy lap was my cushion fine
Thankless to her, a supine
Mother 'o' mother of mine,
Who will forget thee...
poem by Aftab Alam Khursheed
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Trinity
The crone presides, the mother serves.
The maiden’s waiting in the wings,
each holds she place that she deserves.
The Moon Goddess still pulls the strings.
The fates decide the time for change
then each moves on to higher things
The power structures re arrange.
The aged crone has earned her wings.
The mother then becomes the crone,
the maiden takes the mothers place.
The elders meet to choose the one.
The new maiden who will replace.
The maiden who is now mature.
She is selected carefully.
They must be absolutely sure.
She understands she is to be
untouched a virgin set apart
There is so much she needs to learn
enough to daunt the stoutest heart.
It is an honour she must earn.
The mother maiden and the crone.
Represent the Moon Goddess,
they act together as though one.
The Goddess’ wishes to express.
Each of them must serve their turn
as maiden, mother then as crone
and from their predecessor learn.
The secrets hitherto unknown.
26-Dec-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Mother’s Temple
Vavroovahana Patra
Mother Mahalaxmi attracts the chaste women, goldy devotees;
She provides rays of delight.
Her shrine smiles in the lap of Nature;
Endowed with fragrant lotus Mother contents real devotee’s desire.
Mother’s temple dazzles with various coloured lights;
Her shrine is a perennial brook of delight.
Mother’s temple dazzles beneath the blue sky;
In real devotees mother penetrates rays of gay.
Sanctity, purity, tranquillity pervades in the air;
Mother fulfils poets’, devotees’, innocent chaste poor women’s desire
Poet derives profound pleasure;
On the solitary shrine, contents spiritual desire.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Nursing You
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
'second sex'
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you 'second'
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my breasts,
rowling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second sex,
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
poem by Erica Jong
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On the First Night
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
'second sex'
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you 'second'
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my breasts,
growling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second sex,
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
poem by Erica Jong
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Assumption Of The Blessed Mary Ever Virgin, Mother Of Christ
A sun-clad lady rose up in the skies,
With body, soul soon after she had died;
The conception immaculate, divine,
Theotokos, to heaven got assumed!
All Apostles were gathered for the show,
Except St.Thomas, as angels took her,
Through clouds, heaven-wards, to be besides Christ,
Whom she borne with love as earth's mother!
Death dared not prevent her from doing so;
The woman God-favoured is Heaven's queen;
Her role against satan was spectacular;
So, God rewarded her with permanent sheen!
The virgin who bore Christ within her womb,
The lady who gave flesh to God's Word-seed,
And reared him, saw him suffer to the tomb,
Resurrect, thus became blessed indeed!
The mother with a heart of sorrows then,
Was taken now to God's abode - Heaven;
To be united with her womb's fruit, Lord -
Jesus loved her and kept His promised word!
The Son has glorified His loving mom!
She did as God commanded her to do,
And helped defeat satan and his legions;
O Mary, help of Christians, Pray for us!
poem by John Celes
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Influence
The fervent, pale-faced Mother ere she sleep,
Looks out upon the zigzag-lighted square,
The beautiful bare trees, the blue night-air,
The revelation of the star-strewn deep,
World above world, and heaven over heaven.
Between the tree-tops and the skies, her sight
Rests on a steadfast, ruddy-shining light,
High in the tower, an earthly star of even.
Hers is the faith in saints' and angels' power,
And mediating love--she breathes a prayer
For yon tired watcher in the gray old tower.
He the shrewd, skeptic poet unaware
Feels comforted and stilled, and knows not whence
Falls this unwonted peace on heart and sense.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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Nursing You
On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,
& I gave birth to you
little woman,
little carrot top,
little turned-up nose,
pushing you out of myself
as my mother
pushed
me out of herself,
as her mother did,
& her mother's mother before her,
all of us born
of woman.
I am the second daughter
of a second daughter
of a second daughter,
but you shall be the first.
You shall see the phrase
"second sex"
only in puzzlement,
wondering how anyone,
except a madman,
could call you "second"
when you are so splendidly
first,
conferring even on your mother
firstness, vastness, fullness
as the moon at its fullest
lights up the sky.
Now the moon is full again
& you are four weeks old.
Little lion, lioness,
yowling for my breasts,
rowling at the moon,
how I love your lustiness,
your red face demanding,
your hungry mouth howling,
your screams, your cries
which all spell life
in large letters
the color of blood.
You are born a woman
for the sheer glory of it,
little redhead, beautiful screamer.
You are no second sex,
but the first of the first;
& when the moon's phases
fill out the cycle
of your life,
you will crow
for the joy
of being a woman,
telling the pallid moon
to go drown herself
in the blue ocean,
& glorying, glorying, glorying
in the rosy wonder
of your sunshining wondrous
self.
poem by Erica Jong
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Another Huge Earthquake
Another huge Earthquake in Java and thousands are missing and dead
Just one angry outburst of Nature leaving millions of people in dread
Of another mighty earth tremor the fear it is real and widespread
Of the destructive power of our Earth Mother so much has been written and said,
Another huge Earthquake to talk of the anger of Nature no human structure can hope to withstand
Once great buildings left in huge piles of rubble as if they were castles of sand
Built by children on the beach at low tide that at high tide were washed out to sea
So great is the power of our Earth Mother and not one as mighty as she,
All of life lives off of Mother Nature and of her power we are aware
And though Nature can kill thousands of people Mother Nature is never unfair
People come and go like the Seasons but Nature she lives on and on
And she will be around forever though all present life forms may be gone
But she will create new life forms and Nature is forever more
And the stream from the hill will flow down to the river that flows to the great ocean shore.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Blue Love
Well tell mother, her smile is a light
Its a flashing gold-ray from a sourse so bright
But if love is for love, then mother
You deserve the love, its blue, so blue
like a sky after the rain, huddle
With a warm African sun, so is your love
But mother, if joy was for joy
Then please enjoy, what I say on this reed
Is what is inscribed by my hand
Yet mother, the hands stretch, all things meant
For love is love, that which is blue
For if it is pure, the pink roses on the wall map.
This is for love mother, its for your due
poem by Ronald K Ssekajja
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Delight In God Only
I love (and have some cause to love) the earth;
She is my Maker's creature, therefore good:
She is my mother, for she gave me birth;
She is my tender nurse; she gives me food;
But what's a creature, Lord, compared with Thee?
Or what's my mother, or my nurse to me?
I love the air; her dainty fruits refresh
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;
Her shrill-mouth'd choirs sustain me with their flesh.
And with their polyphonian notes delight me:
But what's the air, or all the sweets that she
Can bless my soul withal, compared to Thee?
I love the sea; she is my fellow-creature,
My careful purveyor; she provides me store;
She walls me round; she makes my diet greater;
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore:
But, Lord of oceans, when compared with Thee,
What is the ocean, or her wealth to me?
To heaven's high city I direct my journey,
Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye;
Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney,
Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky.
But what is heaven, great God, compared to Thee?
Without Thy presence, heaven's no heaven to me.
Without Thy presence, earth gives no reflection:
Without Thy presence, sea affords no treasure;
Without Thy presence, air's a rank infection;
Without Thy presence, heaven itself no pleasure:
If not possess'd, if not enjoyed in Thee,
What's earth, or sea, or air, or heaven to me?
The highest honours that the world can boast,
Are subjects far too low for my desire;
Its brightest gleams of glory are, at most,
But dying sparkles of Thy living fire:
The brightest flames that earth can kindle, be
But nightly glowworms, if compared to Thee.
Without Thy presence, wealth is bags of cares;
Wisdom, but folly; joy, disquiet, sadness;
Friendship is treason, and delights are snares;
Pleasures, but pain; and mirth, but pleasing madness:
Without Thee, Lord, things be not what they be,
Nor have their being when compared with Thee.
In having all things, and not Thee, what have I?
Not having Thee, what have my labours got?
Let me enjoy but Thee, what have my labours got?
And having Thee alone, what have I not?
I wish nor sea nor land; nor would I be
Possess'd of heaven, heaven unpossess'd of Thee.
poem by Francis Quarles
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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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Women
Defies all gravitational orthodoxy that ascertains her
Bringing the mythology of fiction to fruition
Potrait perfection, sculptured image of reincarnation
Preeminence through renaissance, artistic creation
She's a mother of all beings, a mother in a mother who bears all seedlings
A man in all man, ... look past the unscripted beliefs
She telescopes clouds of a unicorn
Birthing astronomical strength that her tears should be of celestial form
Self believe immaculate that inside herself she's born
Call it conceptual inception mirror image being God's form
Ella es el verdadero don
Her heart is equivalent to a treasure hunt, that he who uncovers it should have found a pot of gold
Unlike now younger women who use their bodies as resources, self pimped and sold
Even though she loves like her life depends on it, she cares coz she was made that way.
Doesn't mean she needs to be loved less, nor cared for less
Love your woman like she's your mother, that when you hold your mother, you see how she feels when you hold her
Discerning profinity how a woman and a phoenix share the same myth, realistically
Clannish is her essenance and jus by being a woman should be characterized as epitome in excellence
poem by Kgagamatso Chimelwane
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Examples
What kind of an example will you be
Spoke mother nature to the tree
As it stood so proudly and ever so tall
As though defying to all that it would fall
Will you place your roots deep into the Earth
Then other trees like you will then give birth
Spoke once again mother nature to the tree
Tell me please what type of example will you be.
What kind of an example will you become
Spoke the mother wolf unto her young
Will you be majestic and run fast and free
Running in packs to provide for your family.
Or will you become a mother like I became
But swearing to all you will never be tamed
While fearing no one in the the moonlight or the sun
So please tell me what type of examples will you become.
What kind of an example will you be
Spoke the mother to her daughter upon her knee
Will you be a loyal and devout and virtuous woman
Never doing the things that a lady shouldn't
Being honest and caring through the days of your life
Then being truthful and trusting when you become a wife
And will you become a mother just like me
Please tell me what type of an example will you be.
What kind of an example will you be
Spoke GOD to mother nature as she planted the tree
And what kind of an example have you become
Spoke GOD to the she wolf as she spoke to her young
What hind of an example will you then be
Spoke GOD to the mother with her daughter on her knee
The young ones will do and become from what they see
As the examples will be you spoke GOD to all three.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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