Motherhood Poems

I was once asked – If you were to paint motherhood What colour would you use, my friend? Would it be yellow, bright and sunny? Would it be green, full of life and promise? Would it be blue, an intellectual

In the bosom of a heart A mother bore a little one With all pangs of pain In motherhood and labor. In the chambers of her heart She kept him safe Suckled the little one With all her love. An

I will miss you till my last breath dear Amma I breath in each breath in remembrance of you dear Amma Growing up as a child in the family of five I worshiped you mother taking on life without any

This river breaks on rocks unmoving. Soft music unceasing on violin strings. My heart plays silent tunes in darkness. A picture melts into nothingness. ……………………………… Gather them, If you can, those broken pieces before the waves swallow. The sea is

A mother is a person, who is there for you the most, She gives you food and even makes you the toast, She makes the world a better place, To you she looks to have the kindest face. She is

I forget she had her own story Before mine had even begun But when she became my Mother Our stories merged into one She had hopes and dreams of her own Down which path in life she’d been led But

As a child you are a free bird Playing hide and seek, here and there Controlling a crumbling child is truly hard So your mother cooks up threats of invisible monster Your twinkling eyes may be fearless Designed devil may

Motherhood — Is it a blessing or a hidden challenge Or both of them finely rolled Into a status unique and strange ? A privilege granted by the supreme Maker To all female beings here on the earth Deeming them

A tie of life full of affection With a common dream for eternal continuation. Building a haven filled with passion Along comes a gift with a task of attention. A pensive journey through the long duration The whole nine months

In my good times.. in my bad times.. in my tough times .. in my rough times.. Only you have been there.. been there with me!! To lift my moods.. to make us sing together with cheerfulness and glee.. To

He came along into her life, Like a sunshine after a horrible night. The bliss that followed him, Buried the pain and let it dim. She held him close to her bosom, for the happiness that formed a chasm He

Walking downhill, I couldn’t control my speed. Suddenly I limped and there was blackout. I tried to open my eyes but failed. With difficulty I lifted my hand and felt my eyes wrapped. I could feel the jerks of a

You were so sweet and gentle; so warm and so caring You were drenched with heavenly drops of honey. Even when our lives were sad and cloudy, you filled it with hope and sunshine You had many reasons to be

My prayers are not prayers And my penance is not penance, Remarkable, the patience you show, Admirably greater than mine, I assure; Incomparable, thy dedication, thou Dried and dried under the hot sun, With no food nor drink, continuing endure,

Shedding the wholeness of negation you arrive: fear was sweeping the floor when smoke screen of love was hung on blue morning, you groped for a hidden coin, lost in the woods of mania. Distinguishing a chaste word, without thought,

‘The Cry of our Children’ is simply a marvelous collection of poems, full of emotions and feelings in one book by poet Ruth Andrews. Though the writer has dedicated her book to motherhood and child- mother relation, this book has

It did not stay in bed for long the ultimate. Clouds climbed down from immortality. The sick motherhood. We made love listening to winds draping our ashes. A father waited at the door. I am the sun I am the

She steps into the world UNwanted As a child She can’t differentiate herself from Boys On her Teens shyness creep in and she distances from adolescent boys On crossing the Teens maturity dawns in and dreams of an appropriate life

for beheading the raceme three bullets went into the bubbling chest the assassins had come when she was alone with scars on wings she sailed on voices of silence the melody had kissed the moon in night without veil it

Conflicted I tried, to comfort, reassure myself, I did not lose, gain knowledge. Yet the sorrow within says differently. This was not love, but dislike for me. Not that it was my reflection, actions of others, my heart tells a

I’m a wispy boon a gleeful surprise ineffable in my own still growing , but I’ve grown Even you are me, I am he This heart – this oarsman keeps me alive or the breaths would’ve lasted at five My

I loved the way you kissed me Remember, You were awake the whole night just to see me dream. I can still feel your tear on my lip; the one you wiped when you thought you would lose me You

Never being late, Never being fast, Never being slept, performs a watchman’s task, Keeps its sharp eyes on everybody, Works hour can’t be stop by anybody, I usually ask myself, doesn’t he feel tired? He replied; if it would be

I may not know much, but I do know that many times you think that you are doing something right, it sometimes throws you for a loop. If you close your eyes and search deep in your heart what do

When the two coins are placed on your eyes, That must be the end of your smiles, That shall be the last breath in your life, That is the time when a goat needs no knife. When the deep sleep

I tend lovingly my husband, present savior, shareholder of my future pains of old age. But, he is in my place and I am in his role. I nourished warmly my innocent children my blessed off-springs of happy home, future

Beyond Death we cannot think Under the Bridge we go blind Not thinking I reach out my hand Until His hand takes mine. I’ll go through Life hopeful Thoughtless of things I will say Little known places, people, ideas Shaken

Truth is the most bitter word which people can’t recognise in this real world. Truth is we just say society is cruel but we forgot we are the one who make it brutal truth is we just say nobody help

I had come from California for a visit with my oldest brother who had returned not long ago to live out the rest of his days in this quiet little Delta town of Clarksdale, Mississippi. After spending a night and

Beautiful colors are filling my day with a smile I just walk a long the way people are passing by and greeting me ’cause they see, what I see I’m not more, not less, just a girl with a voice

The will to create and the wish to destroy, it is time you acknowledge, has never been yours to own, Because, in your vengeance, in your unmindful impatience, in your immaculate madness, when your soul turns to stone – You

I seek a guide I seek a moment I seek an event I seek the will to live again I seek the courage to love again I seek to not regret I seek to write out of joy I seek

Old man loved poems was no secret, that he used to tell everyone in pomp; was what I didn’t know. He was all rhyme and rhythm, a whisper now and a bellow’s hiss, all in one and all too soon.

In Retirement days, plant words on a page. Record in a booklet, give a little age. Let ripen, hide it away a few days. Later, re-evaluate, review, and renew. It is choice and lasting, or is it to re-do? Will

We know it’s hard to believe From what your earthly eyes can see. We know it’s difficult to accept Since you are deficient in sensory depth. We know you haven’t been sufficiently prepared To come to terms with what’s really

When difficulties find their way The mind must reach beyond this day. Search beyond the horizon’s bounds. The mind can travel to new finds. Another day writes what it may. Sunshine drives the clouds away. The sunset will seal it

Up and down, something special happen inside of my head when I close my eyes and one step back I look at my soul and I figured out what I don’t know. Let and right this my way, close to

Time within the earth hour was lengthening. The other god was sleeping. Becoming was inviting the death while climbing. Frostbite amputates the memory. Ending without beginning, I was asking the seeker to stop searching the answers. The houses were burning

The art of winning is not in Who’s holding you, your talent, But view. See yours as valuable, deserving, praise worthy, better. Whatever it is be proud of it. Speak and protect your children as priceless jewels, your mate as

When twilight meets the evening sun, Waiting to say goodbye, She explodes into a wondrous ecstasy, Making his heart rest without shadows, In her wonderful exquisiteness. He ignites a flame within her Absorbing the fiery colors of his day, Soothing

I take my trip to the land of black called Africa where my ancestors live and rule for thousand years. They are like a thunder and dove they never weak nor shaky always at their feet. This is the land