FAYZ WORLD: MOTHER'S DAY

Poems For Mother's Day

Mother

There is no love, like a mother’s love,
No stronger bond on earth …
Like the precious bond that comes from God,
To a mother, when she gives birth.

A mother’s love is forever strong,
Never changing for all time …
And when her children need her most,
A mother’s love will shine.

God bless these special mothers,
God bless them every one …
For all the tears and heartache,
And for the special work they’ve done.

When her days on earth are over,
A mother’s love lives on …
Through many generations,
With God’s blessings on each one.

Be thankful for our mothers,
For they love with a higher love …
From the power God has given,
And the strength from up above.

~Author Unknown~

Young

We walked along a well-worn trail,
My little ones and I.
We stopped to watch a chipmunk play
And airplanes in the sky.

We crossed a stream on mossy rocks
To reach the other side;
For that is where the groundhog ran
Beneath the brush to hide.

We saw the crows fly overhead
And heard their mating call.
We gathered flowers from their bed.
(We didn’t pick them all.)

For we’d return another day
To sit awhile and dream,
To watch the squirrels and chipmunks play
While birds drink from the stream.

Now the sun long shadows casts;
We must climb the hill.
Another golden moment past;
For time will not stand still.

~Author Unknown~

Middle-Aged

I’m sitting on the front porch
In my favourite rocking chair;
My children hover over me
With gentleness and care.

My feet are on a pillow;
My glass is filled with tea.
My every wish is their command –
‘Tis Mother’s Day, you see

My husband’s in the kitchen
Rattling pots and pans.
He’s whipping up his specialty,
Anything out of cans.

I wish this day would never end –
A selfish wish I guess;
But when the sun goes down, you see,
I’ll have to clean the mess.

~Author Unknown~

Old

I love old mothers – mothers with white hair,
And kindly eyes, and lips grown softly sweet,
With murmured blessings over sleeping babes.
There is a something in their quiet grace
That speaks the calm of Sabbath afternoons;
A knowledge in their deep, unfaltering eyes
That far outreaches all philosophy.

Time with caressing touch about them weaves
The silver-threaded fairy-shawl of age,
While all the echoes of forgotten songs
Seem joined to lend a sweetness to their speech.

Old mothers! – as they pass with slow-timed step,
Their trembling hands cling gently to youth’s strength.
Sweet mothers! As they pass, one sees again
Old garden walks, old roses, and old loves.