RSS Feed

Mothers Special Day

mummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

 

Mothers Day will be upon us soon

How are we going to celebrate this event?

Shall we buy her chocolates and flowers?

Or buy her an expensive bottle of scent

 

We all take mothers for granted

Expecting she will always be there

She is always a good listener

And all your problems she will share

 

She sometimes becomes a nurse and a doctor

When you have hurt yourself at play

She will sit you upon her lap

Until the pain goes away

 

She will do these things all of your life

In sickness and in health

She will never give up on you

For a mother never thinks of her self 

 

A champion to all of the family

At times she will have her say

For a mother is the kingpin of the family

So show your appreciation on this her special day

 

Malcolm Bradshaw

Mothers Day will be upon us soon

How are we going to celebrate this event?

Why not dedicate a poem to your Mother 

This Sunday

SEND YOUR DEDICATIONS OR POEMS

TO

poetreecreations@yahoo.com

SEND YOUR POEMS FOR MOTHERS DAY THIS SUNDAY

mum

SEND YOUR POEMS TO:poetreecreations@yahoo.com

Follow my journey and download my new eBook

life and love

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=node%3D341689031&field-keywords=Love+and+life+by+Gillian+Sims

Poem for Mothers’ Day – Promote Yourself

mum
Here’s the Hippie one!

Hey, mother
I thank you
for that dreamy childhood
teaching me what I could

 

Hey, mother
I thank you
for that happy meal
teaching me never to steal

Hey, mother
I thank you
for that soft lap
where I took a long nap

 

Hey, mother
I thank you
for that healing slap
remindin’ me that was a mishap

 

Hey, mother
I thank you
for the pain that you felt
to lift me to this Earth

Hey, mother
I thank you.

Sarvjit Singh

Born Again – Promote Yourself


bab

Drowsy after a caesarean I lay
as if I forgot why I was there

The nurse woke me, handed me
a beautiful dimply babe

As if saying, take care
here it is, now all yours

As I held him, there he was
frantically sucking his tiny fist

His nervous half-open eyes
as if scared to be in this world

Our eyes locked, well so I thought
and I was changed forever

That moment I was ‘born again’
as I had become a mother

He was my bundle of joy
my onus and my prerogative

With trembling unsure hands
I dressed him up in red

He belongs to me, I thought that day
this little soul is solely mine

But no, from that day till now
it was my life that was no more mine

My life could never be the same
it became much better and too fine.

https://alkagirdhar.wordpress.com/2015/01/05/born-again/?preview=true&preview_id=247&preview_nonce=ffbf1555d3

Alka Girdhar
Sydney

Mother

mum15

 

A sweet enchanting smile

Warm and tender charms

The things I remember

While safe in mother’s arms

 

Protected from all troubles

Comforted when in pain

Kissed gently on the cheek

To make all better again

 

Guided through my infant life

Of things I should not do

Taught me right from wrong

And shown things old and new

 

I want to thank you mother

I cherished all the years

Even when I was punished

And cried so many tears

 

And now that I am older

My love for you is strong

Although you are no longer with me

To the Spirit world you have gone

 

I know you will always be near me

For your love will never die

At times when I need you

I will always feel you nigh

 

I should like to say thank you

For all that you have done

For I will always cherish you

From your grateful Son.
 
Malcolm Bradshaw

Dear Mother

 

 

 

 

Mother, daughter, friend, or foe

I want you to always know,

You are forever my best friend

From past to present, until the end,

You help me using your guiding hand

All you did I now understand

 

All the good times all the bad

The days of laughter, the days we were sad,

We helped each other when we could

Just the way best friends should,

You’ve helped me through when times were rough

I tried to be there when times were tough,

 

No matter what you are here

You help me conquer every fear,

You listen and help day by day

Through my mistakes, you led the way,

When times are hard I think of you

I wonder what you would do

 

No matter what, you are here

You always were there to care,

Memories I hold close to my chest

For these memories are my best,

So I am thanking you for being a friend

My best friend until the end.

By Abbe Cutforth

Mothers Day

Memories of my mother come flooding back to me

Only yesterday I thought of something she once said

That respect is something we must work for

Hard work, not fancies that come into our head

Everyday we have a chance to make an impression

Riding on our laurels is not the way to go

Seizing every opportunity must be our target

Delay will only fill us with regret

And the chance to succeed will be gone forever

Yesterday’s remembrance is something I must not forget

Written by Ron Martin

AN UNUSUAL CRIME

dv cooper
 
Who was D.B. Cooper, it’s a name you may not know,
On his death bed he admitted a crime committed many years ago,
The crime was most unusual, being the first of its kind,
If you consider the facts an unusual story you will find.
 
A Boeing 727 was flying from Portland to Seattle in 1971,
On board were thirty six passengers and crew,
A passenger told the stewardness that a high jacking was taking place,
That she must listen carefully whilst he told her what to do.
 
He opened his case to reveal cylinders joined by wires,
That he had a bomb was very plain to see,
The stewardess was told to inform the pilot of the fact,
And that their co-operation would guarantee their safety.
 
The pilot was told to land as normal in Seattle ,
The passenger were set free as soon as the plane landed,
The crew however were not aloud to leave the plane,
It was then that a ransom was demanded.
 
The hijacker asked 200,000 dollars and a parachute,
Which the authorities decided was a small price to pay,
In return a promise was given that the plane and crew would be safe,
So the ransom was paid, and the plane took off without delay.
 
The first orders were to fly the plane to Mexico ,
But soon after take off the orders were changed,
The pilot was ordered to reduce height and speed and to open the rear door,
The hijacker jumped when everything had been arranged.
 
The police knew the area where he must have landed,
It was an area which contained a lot of marshy ground,
They thought that he might have been killed on landing,
But in spite of a widespread search he was never found.
 
His thin clothing and the atrocious weather conditions,
Made it very unlikely that he could survive,
But after months of searching without finding his body,
The police had to assume that he was still alive.
 
The numbers on the ransom money had been recorded,
It was hoped that when it was spent it would provide a clue,
But none of it was ever found in circulation,
After a few years the police decided they had other things to do.
 
In 1977 D.B Cooper married, but used a different name,
His wife had no idea of the crime he had committed,
They lived a peaceful normal happy life together,
It was only on his deathbed that his guilt was admitted.
 
 
 
His wife was surprised and told the police of his admission,
They must have been happy that the truth at last was known,
They could not understand why the money had not been spent,
So the reason for the crime is still unknown.
Footnote
 
Thirty years after the hi jacking a young boy playing in the area where the hijacker landed found a bundle of 50-dollar notes, which had been part of the ransom money.
It is possible that the rest of the money was lost in the marshy ground, which would explain why none of it was spent.
Ron Martin

Tear drop rolling down my face – Promote Yourself

tear

Tear drop rolling down my face’ through a haze eyes so glazed’ through a sadness of despair ‘ into madness every where.
Darkness falls each night’ where people are out of sight’ where places are so strange’ an every one out of range.
Where no sound can be heard’ not even a twitter from a bird’ where no life can be seen’ not even in a stream’ in this land that I found ‘ its so quiet and profound.
I must go’ its a must’ this land is full of dust.

Patricia bourne WordPress 2014.

Demon Dialers-promote yourself

A Blink of an Eye – Promote Yourself

tumblr_m4vcxzqtFJ1rtepflo1_500

Canal Life – YOUR FAVOURITE POEM

To celebrate the launch of the Canal & River Trust, renowned English poet Ian McMillan

has written ‘Canal Life’.

Ian McMillan, renowned English poet
Ian McMillan, renowned English poet

 The canal tells you stories

The canal sings you songs

They hang in that space

Between memory and water

 

Once saw a narrowboat raised up,

Like it was cutting through the air,

Between two grass walls and the road below

Like it was sliding through history,

And a tiny vole swam across the water

So a tiny vole swam through history.

 

The canal tells you stories,

The canal sings you songs

  

Once saw a man floating belly up in a canal

Like he was in the bath. He shouted

‘This is the life’ as I passed by on a narrowboat;

The sky was reflected in the surface

And we tied up in the places the map never showed us,

The man floating by, making ripples on the surface.

 

They hang in that space

Between memory and water

 

Once got waved at by a jogger as I stood gongoozling

On the towpath; her running  gave rhythm

To the early afternoon, dog-strollers and kids

Who’d rather be here than sitting in school.

To gongoozle is to stand and watch narrowboats pass

And a canal is a lesson, a water-based school.

   

The canal tells you stories

The canal sings you songs

 

Once these canals were information highways

If coal and iron can be information,

And I think they can be. And there are bridges,

Pub gardens, the laughter of children

As they walk by the water; and the canals

Turn us all into curious children.

  

They hang in that space

Between memory and water

 

Once is never enough for a canal, I reckon;

You need to go back and see it again,

And sail it again, and smell it again, and

Touch it again; canals run through our veins

Like they stroll through this country

Like blood through our veins.

  

The canal tells you stories

The canal sings you songs

They hang in that space

Between memory and water

Ian McMillan

YOUR FAVOURITE POEM

SENT IN BY YOU

WHAT’S YOUR’S?

On Sheltered Words

storm

The Starting End – Promote Yourself

sun

 

Tongues That Tie Cherry Stalks and the Eaters of the Cherry – Promote Yourself

type

“The Chimney Sweeper,” from Songs of Innocence -Famous Poet-William Blake

sweep

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry ” ‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep! ‘weep!’ “
So your chimneys I sweep & in soot I sleep.

There’s little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head
That curled like a lamb’s back, was shaved: so I said,
“Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when your head’s bare
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.”

And so he was quiet, & that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping he had such a sight!
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned & Jack,
Were all of them locked up in coffins of black.

And by came an Angel who had a bright key,
And he opened the coffins & set them all free;
Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing, they run,
And wash in a river and shine in the Sun.

Then naked & white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds and sport in the wind.
And the Angel told Tom, if he’d be a good boy,
He’d have God for his father & never want joy.

And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags & our brushes to work.
Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm;
So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.

………………………………………William Blake

DRIVING TO THE EDGE ON INTERSTATE FIVE – Promote Yourself

vally 

As the tires hum I grip the wheel

Through miles of barren landscape,

My wife, daughters make the sound of sleep

As the emptiness rushes by,

I am alone in this desolate land

With only my thoughts for company,

The San Joaquin Valley stretches along

This ribbon of road,

On the CD player, Jonatha Brooke

Sings her sad, soulful songs,

I am so far away from home

As the sun lowers behind the distant mountains,

Wherever I travel, or choose to exist

I long for the home

I fear I may never find,

There is something inside

That I do not understand

That will not permit peace,

A happy family is mine

But conflict and emptiness still possess me,

Forever alone.

Walt Trizna

https://walttriznastories.wordpress.com/

Come show thy Durham Breast – Your Favourite Poem

EMIL

1542

Come show thy Durham Breast
To her who loves thee best,
Delicious Robin—
And if it be not me
At least within my Tree
Do the avowing—
Thy Nuptial so minute
Perhaps is more astute
Than vaster suing—
For so to soar away
Is our propensity
The Day ensuing—

Emily Dickinson

SENT IN BY YOU

WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE POEM?

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 17,310 other followers

%d bloggers like this: