Mother's Day

Tom Zart · Nov 13, 2007

MOTHERS

There’s no greater power on earth
Than the love we get from our mothers.
They feel our fears within themselves
Far more than sisters or brothers.

As seasons pass; in time we learn
We can’t always rely on others.
No mater what our mistakes may be
We know we can run to our mothers.

Mothers have great big aprons
To hide from the world our flaws.
They kiss and scold when we do wrong
Teaching compliance of laws.

From birth to death mothers lead
Our angels of kindness from above.
They give us more than anyone else

Preaching the importance of love.
Moms are certainly God’s gift to earth
So if you still have one, let it be known.
You can’t imagine your life without her

While the seed of your future is sown.

MOMMA

Oh, I love my momma,
She’s the reason I’m alive.
Her total love for me
Has made her struggle and strive.

Jesus had a momma
Who bore him in a cave.
She couldn’t help but love him
From his birth to the grave.

Should I hang on the highest hill,
My momma would be there.
I know her love would follow me,
My Angel of despair.

Her hair is now all silver,
As I hold her fingers, worn.
Oh, God, bless this wrinkled brow,
From whose body I was born.

By Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
On The Web

mammaduke · Mar 28, 2008

This is a great to put into a homemade card for mom on mothers Day.I know it's early just something to think about & create for your mom or MIL.

pbrbullrider · Apr 2, 2008

wow nice i think that sould be in a card

Jeff G. "bullrider"

auntieclaus · Apr 2, 2008

Absolutely beautiful. I love all of your poems.

mammaduke · Apr 2, 2008

He wrote different poems for all holidays, so if you look in Holidays Year Round you will find more that he wrote for us here.

auntieclaus said:
Absolutely beautiful. I love all of your poems.

sugarplum fairy · May 11, 2008

Beutiful poem!

Happy Mother's Day

AuntieMistletoeDear · May 17, 2008

I agree, both are lovely poems.

Just curious if anyone remembers how Mother's Day started?

It was actually a Mother's March back during the war (Second World War, I think) when a group of Mother's marched to plead that their sons not be sent away to war to kill other mother's sons.

It was sometime later that it became an opportunity to honour our mothers.

Sorry for the mess in the kitchen after we prepared breakfast in bed for you.
We always started Mother's Day off right by surprising her with breakfast or brunch. I recall those younger years, when my brothers and I sometimes with the help of our dad, sometimes on our own would prepared breakfast for our mom and served it to her in bed. She told me later on that she could hear us fussing in the kitchen and would pretend to be surprised. The first time we did it, all she got was burned toast with jam and a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. We figured we improved as time went on and we tackled pancakes, but who knows. We never stayed around to watch her eat it, she could have fed it to the dog.

The First Mother’s Day . . .
The first Mother's Day observance was a church service honoring Mrs. Anna Reese Jarvis, held at Anna Jarvis's request in Grafton, West Virginia, and in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on May 10, 1908.

Carnations, her mother's favorite flowers, were supplied at that first service by Miss Jarvis. White carnations were chosen because they represented the sweetness, purity and endurance of mother love. Red carnations, in time, became the symbol of a living mother. White ones now signify that one's mother has died.

My mother preferred a wildflower bouquet. Note to self: that doesn't mean yank the neighbours flowers roots and all from the garden shake the soil off and stick them in a vase.

Tom Zart · Jun 12, 2008

SNOWBOUND BIRTH

I once knew a lad named Clayton
Who was born on the seat of a car
Which is hard to believe or conceive
But sometimes that's the way things are.

His mother herself was a child
Who had not yet turned fifteen.
All she had was a drunken dad
Not one on whom she could lean.

All at once she felt sharp pains
So strong they made her cry out.
For he who was inside of her
Was eager to be born and shout.

She put on her coat and went out
To search for a nearby phone
On the streets of downtown St. Paul
She walked in the cold alone.

The winds of winter bit her flesh
As the snow kept tumbling down.
With all its windows rolled up tight
An old unlocked car she found.

She got inside and just in time
For her child to be born on the seat.
Then came the pain of a mother's reign
As her baby kicked free with his feet.

She bundled him up in her coat
To keep winter's chill away
Then, fell back to rest awhile
And saw the lights of a cafe.

She knew it was Christmas night,
Not likely would someone walk by
So, back she went into the snow
Only caring her child not die.

She made her way to the diner
Half naked in the ice and snow.
How she felt inside
Only other mothers would know.

Her bone cold hands pushed the door.
As her half frozen body fell in
Seven patrons jumped up asking
What happened, where and when?

She told them of her child's birth
And the place where he could be found.
Then out the door they all ran
Following her trail on the ground

Now that baby is thirty-five
And stands at the spot he was born.
My mother died so I would survive
Her loss I will forever mourn.

By Tom Zart

Petronius · May 12, 2019

Faith of Our Mothers was sung at church on Mother's Day.

Petronius · Nov 1, 2019

I met a young lady whose first name is Kelly. She said that she wishes her mother a Happy Mother's Day each day of the week. She calls her mother every day.