Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Mother’s Smile
by Michael R. Burch

There never was a fonder smile
than mother’s smile, no softer touch
than mother’s touch. So sleep awhile
and know she loves you more than “much.”

So more than “much,” much more than “all.”
Though tender words, these do not speak
of love at all, nor how we fall
and mother’s there, nor how we reach
from nightmares in the ticking night
and she is there to hold us tight.

There never was a stronger back
than father’s back, that held our weight
and lifted us when we were small
and bore us till we reached the gate,
then held our hands that first bright mile
till we could run, and did, then flew.
But, oh, a mother’s tender smile
will leap and follow after you!

Published by TALESetc, Famous Poets and Poems, Poems for Big Kids (anthology), Victorian Violet Press, Better Than Starbucks and Care2Care; also Penguin Books Valentine’s Day Contest Winner and included in the Children of Gaza song cycle by composer Eduard de Boer

Keywords/Tags: Mother, Mother’s Day, smile, tender, touch, words, love, embrace, hugs, holding, hold, warmth, soft, softness, father, back, strength, shouldering, burden, weight, support, nightmare, clock ticking, run, running, fly, flying
mysa Feb 2020
i want to hold your hand
without having to extend my own

i want to kiss you
without you knowing that i want to

i want you to know that i love you
without having to say it
Ron Gavalik Jan 2020
Bourbon whiskey
and dark chocolate
are tender injections
of love
for the people
who are not
in love

–Ron Gavalik
A silent yearning,
A splash of soft renegade.
This gold softness
Close again like armor;
My collapse, his surrender.

Please my quiet scream;
I crave your emotion,
My charming melody.
Joy Nov 2019
Your eyes are illuminating my skies,
twisting their whimsical shimmers,
ricochets of burning golden sparks,
simmering down in graphite ponds,
holding the green water lily leaves.

Your laugh rings in my ears indefinitely,
a deafening gong of sanctity
scaring the birds off the bare branches
and it feels like a ritual.

My hands warm in your pockets,
loving you is being drunk on strawberry wine,
eyes shinning from their sockets,
oh how your eyes illuminate my skies!
Manan sheel Nov 2019
Isn't this night full of stars,
this musical night, this sweet night,
this purple tender night,
Isn't this for me?

And this moon peeping from
the branches of this long-leaved tree,
Doesn't this shine for me?

And these, my sweet tears,
fresh like the morning dew,
these are also mine.

I ask that people know me,
that they become mine,
yet, I don't see,
that everything here,
is for me...

© Manan sheel.
Joy Nov 2019
The skin on your lips
is the type
of magical MacGuffin
that makes you believe
in enchanted forests
at midnight.
They swim
in the reddish blue, velvet mist.
And after all
isn't magic getting something for nothing?

I told you I dreamt
of plum colored butterfly wings.
You bared your teeth
in a warlock grin and leaned in
to kiss my fingertips.
You drew mystic symbols
on my bare shoulders
and you whispered spells in my ears,
softly.
I vaguely remember
the purple steam around us
before I was way up in the air.
And you said you wanted nothing
but to leave the mauve
lovebite on my hip in return.
Mitch Prax Oct 2019
T&T
Tragically and tenderly-
It's the only way I knew how
to love you.
N Oct 2019
There is beauty in buried love—
tenderly wrenching.
The subtle and soft carry so much more power,
and every touch is a stolen blessing.
No moment is taken for granted;
we are present.
Every look: a confession
to be churned over and over,
while we waltz with desire
never hastily.
We are ravenous for a love so blatantly before us but we don’t dare to indulge.
Mm-bap-bap Mm-bap-bap Mm-bap-bap
So we make beauty with the withstraint and we call it discipline.
Next page