Sunday, June 29, 2025
Google search engine
HomeLifestyle4 Stunning Motherhood Poems | Cup of Jo

4 Stunning Motherhood Poems | Cup of Jo


Have you ever ever learn a poem that made you do a pointy breath, whereas your hand moved proper to your coronary heart? Listed here are 4 poems that made me do exactly that…

What Kids Say
by Kate Baer

I can’t attain my cup, my water bottle,
the snack up on the shelf. I can’t do
it. I received’t do it. I might by no means do it
in 1,000,000 years. You might want to assist
me. Assist me quicker. Do it the best way
I requested you to. I don’t like pizza or
watermelon. I don’t like something I
preferred earlier than. I are not looking for it. I do
not want it. I’ll by no means transfer up off
this ground. Don’t assist me. Don’t
maintain me. Don’t sit down beside my
mattress. I’m not sleeping. I’m not drained.
I’m too scared to go to sleep. You could
maintain me. You could rock me. Don’t
depart me on their own. I’m thirsty. I’m
hungry. I’m too drained to place my toys
away. Don’t be offended. Don’t begin
singing. The place is the butterfly I drew?
I’m nonetheless hungry. I’m nonetheless taking part in. Will
you permit me? Will you keep?

The Lanyard
by Billy Collins

The opposite day I used to be ricocheting slowly
off the blue partitions of this room,
shifting as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope mendacity on the ground,
when I discovered myself within the L part of the dictionary
the place my eyes fell upon the phrase lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
may ship one into the previous extra instantly—
a previous the place I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
studying the way to braid lengthy skinny plastic strips
right into a lanyard, a present for my mom.

I had by no means seen anybody use a lanyard
or put on one, if that’s what you probably did with them,
however that didn’t hold me from crossing
strand over strand many times
till I had made a boxy
crimson and white lanyard for my mom.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in lots of a sick room,
lifted spoons of drugs to my lips,
laid chilly face-cloths on my brow,
after which led me out into the ethereal mild

and taught me to stroll and swim,
and I, in flip, introduced her with a lanyard.
Listed here are hundreds of meals, she stated,
and right here is clothes and a great training.
And right here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a bit assist from a counselor.

Here’s a respiratory physique and a beating coronary heart,
robust legs, bones and enamel,
and two clear eyes to learn the world, she whispered,
and right here, I stated, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And right here, I want to say to her now,
is a smaller reward — not the worn reality

that you would be able to by no means repay your mom,
however the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I used to be as positive as a boy could possibly be
that this ineffective, nugatory factor I wove
out of boredom can be sufficient to make us even.

The Committee Weighs In
by Andrea Cohen

I inform my mom
I’ve received the Nobel Prize.

Once more? she says. Which
self-discipline this time?

It’s a bit sport
we play: I faux

I’m anyone, she
pretends she isn’t lifeless.

Mom, a Cradle to Maintain Me
by Maya Angelou

It’s true
I used to be created in you.
It’s also true
That you just have been created for me.
I owned your voice.
It was formed and tuned to appease me.
Your arms have been molded
Right into a cradle to carry me, to rock me.
The scent of your physique was the air
Perfumed for me to breathe.

Mom,
Throughout these early, dearest days
I didn’t dream that you just had
A big life which included me,
For I had a life
Which was solely you.

Time handed steadily and drew us aside.
I used to be unwilling.
I feared if I allow you to go
You would go away me eternally.
You smiled at my fears, saying
I couldn’t keep in your lap without end.

That sooner or later you would need to stand
And the place would I be?
You smiled once more.
I didn’t.
With out warning you left me,
However you returned instantly.
You left once more and returned,
I admit, rapidly,
However reduction didn’t relaxation with me simply.
You left once more, however once more returned.
You left once more, however once more returned.
Every time you reentered my world
You introduced assurance.
Slowly I gained confidence.

You thought you realize me,
However I did know you,
You thought you have been watching me,
However I did maintain you securely in my sight,
Recording each second,
Memorizing your smiles, tracing your frowns.
In your absence
I rehearsed you,
The way in which you had of singing
On a breeze,
Whereas a sob lay
On the root of your tune.

The way in which you posed your head
In order that the sunshine may caress your face
Once you put your fingers on my hand
And your hand on my arm,
I used to be blessed with a way of well being,
Of energy and superb fortune.

You have been all the time
the guts of happiness to me,
Bringing nougats of glee,
Sweets of open laughter.

I liked you even through the years
Once you knew nothing
And I knew every part, I liked you continue to.
Condescendingly in fact,
From my excessive perch
Of teenage knowledge.
I spoke sharply of you, typically
Since you have been sluggish to grasp.
I grew older and
Was shocked to search out
How a lot data you had gleaned.
And so rapidly.

Mom, I’ve discovered sufficient now
To know I’ve discovered almost nothing.
On this present day
When moms are being honored,
Let me thanks
That my selfishness, ignorance, and mockery
Didn’t carry you to
Discard me like a damaged doll
Which had misplaced its favor.
I thanks that
You continue to discover one thing in me
To cherish, to admire and to like.

I thanks, Mom.
I really like you.

What parenting poems — or different poems — do you’re keen on? I really feel so stuffed with emotion after studying these; I’m having to do laborious gulps! Additionally, when you’re , the guide Poetry Is Not a Luxurious got here out this weekend — curated by the nameless particular person behind the Instagram account of the identical title. xo

P.S. My motherhood mantra, and the way romantic is that this poem?

(Images, from high, by Koganami Studio, Dream Lover, Felix Chacon, J.Anthony; all via Stocksy.)

0 COMMENTS





Supply hyperlink

RELATED ARTICLES

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

- Advertisment -
Google search engine

Most Popular

Recent Comments