Mother’s Day falls on Sunday this year, and is celebrated on May 11, 2014. If you’re planning on writing a poem for you mother, perhaps inside of a nice Mother’s Day card, here are some poems to get you started. And if you still haven’t thought of a gift for your mother, here are some ideas.
1. “To My Mother”
And May you happy live,
And long us bless;
Receiving as you give
—Christina Rossetti, 1842
2. “M – O – T – H – E – R”
“M” is for the million things she gave me,
“O” means only that she’s growing old,
“T” is for the tears she shed to save me,
“H” is for her heart of purest gold;
“E” is for her eyes, with love-light shining,
“R” means right, and right she’ll always be,
Put them all together, they spell
A word that means the world to me.
—Howard Johnson, 1915
3. “Mother O’ Mine”
If I were damned of body and soul,
I know whose prayers would make me whole,
Mother o’ mine,
I mother o’ mine!
—Rudyard Kipling, 1891
4. “Only One Mother”
Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky,
Hundreds of shells on the shore together,
Hundreds of birds that go singing by,
Hundreds of lambs in the sunny weather.
Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn,
Hundreds of bees in the purple clover,
Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn,
But only one mother the world wide over.
5. “To My Mother”
You are less an image in my mind than a luster
I see you in gleams pale as star-light on a gray wall…
evanescent as the reflection of a white swan
shimmering in broken water.
—Lola Ridge, 1873
6. “My Mother”
My mother is so sweet
Sweeter than all sweets you eat’
She is gentle and kind
and works by using her mind.
Her ears are sharp like a knife
and she is a perfect wife.
If someone is in need, oh dear
My sweet mother is always there.
7. “My Mother”
And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast so very kind to me,
—Ann Taylor, 1800s
8. No Matter What I Do
No matter what I do.
You always stick with me.
When I’m down.
You pick me up.
You hug me.
You love me.
You tell me how to keep
My balance throughout life.
So I don’t fall down.
No one’s perfect.
But to me you’re as perfect as you’ll ever be.
9. “The Player Queen”
My mother dandled me and sang,
“How young it is, how young!”
And made a golden cradle
That on a willow swung.
—William Butler Yeats, 1916
(*Mother’s Day image via Shutterstock)