Here are three Mother's Day poems for all of us Mom's out there. Remember once a mother always a mother!!
God's Helpers
God could not be in every place
With loving hands to help erase
The teardrops from each baby's face,
And so He thought of mother.
He could not send us here alone
And leave us to a fate unknown;
Without providing for His own,
The outstretched arms of mother.
God could not watch us night and day
And kneel beside our crib to pray,
Or kiss our little aches away;
And so He sent us mother.
And when our childhood days began,
He simply could not take command.
That's why He placed our tiny hand
Securely into mother's.
The days of youth slipped quickly by,
Life's sun rose higher in the sky.
Full grown were we, yet ever nigh
To love us still, was mother.
And when life's span of years shall end,
I know that God will gladly send,
To welcome home her child again,
That ever-faithful mother.
With loving hands to help erase
The teardrops from each baby's face,
And so He thought of mother.
He could not send us here alone
And leave us to a fate unknown;
Without providing for His own,
The outstretched arms of mother.
God could not watch us night and day
And kneel beside our crib to pray,
Or kiss our little aches away;
And so He sent us mother.
And when our childhood days began,
He simply could not take command.
That's why He placed our tiny hand
Securely into mother's.
The days of youth slipped quickly by,
Life's sun rose higher in the sky.
Full grown were we, yet ever nigh
To love us still, was mother.
And when life's span of years shall end,
I know that God will gladly send,
To welcome home her child again,
That ever-faithful mother.
--George W. Wiseman
To Mother
You painted no Madonnas
On chapel walls in Rome,
But with a touch diviner
You lived one in your home.
You wrote no lofty poems
That critics counted art,
But with a nobler vision
You lived them in your heart.
You carved no shapeless marble
To some high-souled design,
But with a finer sculpture
You shaped this soul of mine.
You built no great cathedrals
That centuries applaud,
But with a grace exquisite
Your life cathedraled God.
Had I the gift of Raphael,
Or Michelangelo,
Oh, what a rare Madonna
My mother's life would show!
On chapel walls in Rome,
But with a touch diviner
You lived one in your home.
You wrote no lofty poems
That critics counted art,
But with a nobler vision
You lived them in your heart.
You carved no shapeless marble
To some high-souled design,
But with a finer sculpture
You shaped this soul of mine.
You built no great cathedrals
That centuries applaud,
But with a grace exquisite
Your life cathedraled God.
Had I the gift of Raphael,
Or Michelangelo,
Oh, what a rare Madonna
My mother's life would show!
--Thomas W. Fessenden
A Mother's Love
There are times when only a mother's love
Can understand our tears,
Can soothe our disappoints
And calm all of our fears.
Can understand our tears,
Can soothe our disappoints
And calm all of our fears.
There are times when only a mother's love
Can share the joy we feel
When something we've dreamed about
Quite suddenly is real.
There are times when only a mother's faith
Can help us on life's way
And inspire in us the confidence
We need from day to day.
For a mother's heart and a mother's faith
And a mother's steadfast love
Were fashioned by the angels
And sent from God above.
--Author Unknown
2 comments:
Beautiful poem - hope you had a great day too!!
Nice poem. Hi from the SITStahood.
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