Mother, I'm trying
to write
a poem to you—
which is how most
poems to mothers must
begin—or, What I've wanted
to say, Mother...but we
as children of mothers,
even when mothers ourselves,
cannot bear our poems
to them. Poems to
mothers make us feel
little again. How to describe
that world that mothers spin
and consume and trap
and love us in, that spreads
for years and men and miles?
Those particular hands that could
smooth anything: butter on bread,
cool sheets or weather. It's
the wonder of them, good or bad,
those mother-hands that pet
and shape and slap,
that sew you together
the pieces of a better house
or life in which you'll try
to live. Mother,
I've done no better
than the others, but for now,
here is your clever failure.
To write someone so close we do fumble with words to suit our true feelings and emotions.,
A nice poem for the mother. Congratulations on poem of the day. Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
no amount of words can say? I love you mam, well maybe 4 words would do?
She is the epitome of love and care. Without her life seems barren and dry. So beautiful...
Mother's hands are the way of life for every child in childhood life- great poem penned about Mother
How to describe that world that mothers spin and consume and trap and love us in, that spreads for years and men and miles? Those particular hands that could smooth anything: butter on bread, --------A great poem!
Congratulations being The MOdern Poem Of The Day, perfect poem to read and much enjoyed the words created here with finest feel.5 Stars!
those mother-hands that pet and shape and slap, that sew you together the pieces of a better house or life- a mother whose love and care built us all up in love. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Clever indeed, Erin. I think we all know the feeling and the frustration of wanting to express ourselves to our mothers, but words are stick figures. Thanks for sharing