Selected Poems For Mothers


Again your kindly, smiling face I see.
Do I but dream? And do my eyes deceive?
Again you whisper through the years to me,
I feel the pressure of your lips at eve.
I dream once more I sit upon your knee,
And hear sweet counsel that I should not grieve;
My hand in yours at twilight time as we
Talk low, and I your sweet caress receive.
At times I see your face with sorrow wrong,
Until, somewhat confused, I scarce believe
That I still dream. Your friends when you were young,
Your own great hopes, your cheer and laughter free
In some weird way are strangely haunting me.
O mother of my childhood's pleasant days!
Still whispering courage and dispelling fears
In daylight hours or quiet moonlight rays,
Are you a dream come from my younger years?
Or do you really walk along the ways,
And know my triumphs, or my inner tears,
That quickly cease when you close by me seem?
Let me sleep on, dear God, if I but dream.

- Max Ehrmann

But Only One Mother

Most of all the other beautiful things in life
come by twos and threes,
by dozens and hundreds.
Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets,
brothers and sisters,
aunts and cousins,
but only one mother in the whole world.

- Kate Douglas Wiggin

My Mother

She was a good as goodness is,
Her acts and all her words were kind,
And high above all memories
I hold the beauty of her mind.

- Frederic Hentz Adams


Like a richly colored flame whose bright tip
Draws upward, but is brushed by erring storm,
Then relentingly seeks the earth's dark form
And buries its deep desires bit by bit;
Thus your life ebbed - though trembling,
pleading lips
Cried proffering words to a Triune God.
In vain I watched for one familiar nod,
Then pressed my mouth to thin black hairy wisps.

Memories? Mother! How can I forget?
Your smiling eyes with sad mystery tinged;
Your helping hands, though labor wrought with tasks;
Mother! Your clear high laughter had a depth
That thrilled my heart, and lifted silence winged
With boundless joy, Thank God! Memories at last!

- Hilda A. Dammirch

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