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Heavy Hearted May 19
my mother would sing me
this song as a baby-
remembering,the power of sound.

for three quarters of the year
my mother she would steer
me from dreams to true love.

and that day, when you have gone
melted back into the dawn
I know you'll still hear me somehow.

for you, I will play, every song- in the way
that I know you'll receive, and retain.
Ill play those songs you love ..Me Do!
Hideaway, Over the Rainbow, Mrs. Robinson too


ill play the purest, sweet sound.
In Awe, Ill foster such simplistic beauty
Because the day I sit on that bench,
to play the Piano, as I have throughout my entire life,
The day I inherent it's entirety
That inevitably hollow day...
When only my ears
Feel it's vibrations.
When only my mind
Floats inside it's rhythm.
That day When
you've gone
too.

How will it sound
?
I'm not sure, but that day will come inevitably.
So. I must take great care to hone my skills. Commit to that piano ******* and really- really- get some good jams going for my mother and father to enjoy.
MOM
Mother earth, oh mother earth; may I cherish
these precious moments of such an outstanding woman
— in these delicate grains of sand slipping through an eye’s hourglass.
For all will pass by as quickly as the gentle whisper, but the love of a
mother is undying, in all its outspoken words in these countless days.

Even as time dances forward, I fervently hope
that through it all, my dearest mother, shall I always
remember your love, joy, and peace, withstanding the test
of these countless days.

Carelessly putting your smile on display, as the portrait
of constantly looking towards brighter days.
A mother’s radiant happiness, becomes the focal point,
brightening up even the darkest corners of these countless days.

For if I could express all the thankfulness, I have of you
each day, it would all be countless in these countless days.
Happy Mother’s Day.
Bekah Halle May 12
Mother;
Mothering? Smothering?
do we need to re-mother?
Love of another?
Enduring legacy of
Loss and despair,
Acceptance, love and joy.
Reconciliation.
Mother;
You help us to recover,
Hope for more to come,
And life to enjoy!
Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers around the world; unsung heroes!
Ashwin Kumar May 10
Thou art my creator
Not to mention, my first teacher
From you, have I learned so much
That it has made me rich
Not in terms of wealth
But in terms of character
Always, have you kept me in good health
And assuaged my doubts and fears
To the greatest extent possible
Thanks to you, do I really believe nothing is impossible!

Thou art my creator
There is so much you have to bear
In order to keep me happy
While I often get snappy
Certainly, have I not been the best son
However, rarely have you been wrong
Always, have you been there for me
Constantly coaxing and cajoling
Scolding and admonishing
And finally
Encouraging and praising!!

Thou art my creator
To me, are you extremely dear
The perfect example of unconditional love
However, at the same time
Rarely have you treated me with kid gloves
Many a time, have you taken the blame
For mistakes I have made
Nevertheless, you are the main reason
For me having a strong sense of right and wrong
You are my moral compass
And whenever there is something amiss
You point me in the right direction
Equally important, are your words of caution!!

Thou art my creator
Not just a mother
But also a friend for life
And my strongest companion in times of strife
With me, have you sometimes been patient to the extreme
You are the beam
Of light that surrounds me from all sides
And ensures I never fade
Often, have you been a mixture of strict and lenient
Sometimes, downright blunt
But you can also be exceedingly sweet
All in all, as a parent
Quite hard are you, to beat!!

Thou art my creator
And quite a colourful character
You are the most precious person
In my entire life
From you, have I learned the most important lessons
Thanks to you, have I been able to ride the rough
And ultimately emerge successful
Finally, I love you above one and all
May God bless you
With loads of love, happiness and peace!!
Poem dedicated to my dear mother
Odd Odyssey Poet May 2023
"Mummy"
screams a child running into her room
"I have an owie,— a boo boo"
a child that runs into her room, is running
into her care

The cherished love, cheery smile of it,
and being patient as the cherry on top

"Mum"
miraculous unconditional marvel,
the superhero of wonders in the kitchen
At times a quiet disciplinary in public, with
a sharp eye of a cutting glare

          Later at home you'll be in trouble...

She is love, often not loved enough
even though; her love is more than enough
And can never be undone

"Mummy, mum, or just ma"
she is all, she is a mother
for all I know, she is a woman.
her beauty might leave you speechless
she is special, not the only one of her species,
and yet, she is uniqueness.

the wind whistles through her hair,
as she walks in elegance,
but it’s nothing like arrogance.

she embodies love and protection,
her heart is strong and golden.
and she is a lover of perfection.

she still remembers
the chances she didn’t take.
the wounds, the heart aches
and the days without breaks.

she has fallen many times,
but sure knows how to arise.
her strength has never let her down
and she still carries her crown.

for all I know,
she is a queen without king.
she always knew how to fight
and how to spread out her wings.

she protects her infants
even from a distance.
her love is persistent,
she is brave and resistent.

for all I know,
her heart is in the right place,
it carries compassion and grace.
and she will always make sure,
that I am safe.

for all I know, she must be a mother.
and gracefully I smiled,
when I realised,
that I am her child.

- gio
Of all the moms that grace my life,
     Mom, you're the mom that's best of all.
I thank You, God, for my awesome mom,
     The bestest mom since mankind's fall.
Larry Potter May 2022
I could always go to a laundromat
Toss away the basket without a care
But your handwash is still the standard
And up to this day, it's beyond compare.

You can topple mountains of ***** clothing
Even before the sun gets to call it noon
Taking your skillful palms to a rhythm
More powerful than a wild monsoon.

With natural precision and technique
You'd feel each fabric and make them clean
A stream of colors that changes every week
You unfold them neatly for the humid winds.

From silly pants and hand-me-downs
You leveled wrinkles and washed the grimes
To buttoned shirts and graduation gowns
Your hands have stood the test of time.

Dried and folded, ironed and hanged
It's nothing short of a magical sight
A bundle of comfort, a pile of warmth
Just a peak of your motherly might.
Happy Mother's Day ma!
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