Poems

Dear Mother

Mother, you are wonderful.

A marvellous member of the family of God,

That’s who you are.

Like lilies in the garden, you beautify our lives.

You are a blessing.

You are an inspiration.

From the very beginning you loved me and nurtured me.

You protected me instinctively.

For nine long months you kept me warm inside of you.

For nine long months you told me all your secrets.

For nine long months you gave me your all.

 

Mother, you are beautiful.

You are kind.

I love you for loving me.

My love for you extends beyond outer space.

My love for you shines brighter than the stars at night.

My love for you cannot be extinguished.

 

Mother, you are strong.

You have endured so much for me.

You have moulded and shaped me into who I am today.

You are my super woman, my wonder woman,

My guardian angel.

You are the essence of my strength.

 

Mother, you are great.

I admire you.

I appreciate you more and more each second,

Each minute and each hour of every day.

For everything that you have done for me,

You never asked me to pay.

 

You are the cherry on my pie.

You are the sugar in my lemonade.

For you I am grateful.

You are the butter on my bread,

And the ketchup on my chicken.

 

But, on you I would never put any form of tax.

You are important, you are needed, you are essential.

You are significant to my existence.

Like salt, you are the flavour of my life.

 

 

 

Mother, I am forever yours.

You are forever mine.

You are always in my heart.

 

In my success and happiness, you have played your part.

I celebrate you.

I dedicate my love to you.

Mother, from the core of my heart,

I declare my love to you.

Oh mother, dear mother, I love you.

— Erika Heslop Martin

 

 

Lies and Tears

Ever since she was a little girl

She’s always been told that real men don’t cry

 unless they are really hurting.

So when he placed his head unto her lap

And looked up at her with tear-filled eyes

she believed every word that fell from his lips

And into her heart.

For they were everything she wanted to hear

And she believed them

Until she realised a while later that they were not true.

They were just an act that he was taught to put on

For he too was told, ever since he was a little boy,

That real men don’t cry unless they are really hurting

So he made the tears fall freely — an art he mastered well —

To validate his lies to be true.

- Stacey A Palmer