Mothers-Day-2012

Mother’s Day 2012 Poems: Top 50 Collection

Top 50 Mother's Day 2012 Poems

Mother’s Day 2012 Poems: Top 50 Collection

Mother’s Day 2012 means sending just the right Poem to moms and wives for all the warmth and love they give all year. The words of a poem can tell a mom how special she can be hard to find.

Top 50 Mother's Day 2012 Poems

Top 50 Mother's Day 2012 Poems

Top 50 Mother’s Day Poems

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

And may you happy live,
And long us bless;
Receiving as you give
Great happiness.

I feel that in the heavens above
The angels, whispering one to another,
Can find among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother”

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Mother’s love is like an island
In life’s ocean, vast and wide
A peaceful, quiet shelter
From the wind, the rain, the tide.
‘Tis bound on the north by Hope,
By Patience on the West,
By tender Counsel on the South
And on the East by Rest.
Above it like a beacon light
Shine Faith, and Truth, and Prayer;
And thro’ the changing scenes of life
I find a haven there.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Mom’s smiles can brighten any moment,
Mom’s hugs put joy in all our days,
Mom’s love will stay with us forever
and touch our lives in precious ways…

The values you’ve taught,
the care you’ve given,
and the wonderful love you’ve shown,
have enriched my life
in more ways than I can count.

I Love you Mom!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

There are times when only a Mother’s love
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…

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Mother…
You filled my days with rainbow lights,
Fairytales and sweet dream nights,
A kiss to wipe away my tears,
Gingerbread to ease my fears.

You gave the gift of life to me
And then in love, you set me free.
I thank you for your tender care,
For deep warm hugs and being there.

I hope that when you think of me
A part of you
You’ll always see….

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

You were there when we took our first steps,
And went unsteadily across the floor.
You pushed and prodded: encouraged and guided,
Until our steps took us out the door…
You worry now “Are they ok?”
Is there more you could have done?
As we walk the paths of our unknown
You wonder”Where have my children gone?”
Where we are is where you have led us,
With your special love you showed us a way,
To believe in ourselves and the decisions we make.
Taking on the challenge of life day-to-day.
And where we go you can be sure,
In spirit you shall never be alone.
For where you are is what matters most to us,
Because to us that will always be home…

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

If I could give you diamonds
for each tear you cried for me.
if I could five you sapphires
for each truth you’ve helped me see.
If I could give you rubies
for the heartache that you’ve known
If I could give you pearls
for the wisdom that you’ve shown.

Then you’ll have a treasure, mother,
that would mount up to the skies
That would almost match
the sparkle in your kind and loving eyes.

But I have no pearls, no diamonds,
As I’m sure you’re well aware
So I’ll give you gifts more precious
My devotion, love and care.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

For all the times you gently picked me up,
When I fell down,
For all the times you tied my shoes
And tucked me into bed,
Or needed something
But put me first instead.
For everything we shared,
The dreams, the laughter,
And the tears,
I love you with a “Special Love”
That deepens every year..

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I wish I could tell you, Mom
how much you mean to me….
But there are no words to say
how much I admire you…
how much I appreciate you…
how much I thank you
for everything you’ve done.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine.
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Songs my mother taught me,
In the days long vanished.
Seldom from her eyelids,
Were the teardrops banished.
Now I teach my children,
Each melodious measure.
Oft the teardrops flowing,
Oft they flow from my memory’s treasure.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Because I feel that in the heavens above
The angels, whispering one to another,
Can find among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore by that dear name I have long called you,
You who are more than mother unto me,
And filled my heart of hearts, where death installed you,
In setting my Virginia’s spirit free.
My mother — my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are the mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
But that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul that its soul-life.

Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be –
I had a mother who read to me.

Strickland Gillilan (1869-1954)

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

The bravest battle that ever was fought!
Shall I tell you where and when?
On the maps of the world you will find it not;
‘Twas fought by the mothers of men.

Nay not with the cannon of battle-shot,
With a sword or noble pen;
Nay, not with eloquent words or thought
From mouth of wonderful men!

But deep in a walled-up woman’s heart –
Of a woman that would not yield,
But bravely, silently bore her part –
Lo, there is the battlefield!

No marshalling troops, no bivouac song,
No banner to gleam and wave;
But oh! those battles, they last so long –
From babyhood to the grave.

Yet, faithful still as a bridge of stars,
She fights in her walled-up town –
Fights on and on in her endless wars,
Then silent, unseen, goes down.

Oh, ye with banners and battle-shot,
And soldiers to shout and paise!
I tell you the kingliest victories fought
Were fought in those silent ways.

O spotless woman in a world of shame,
With splendid and silent scorn,
Go back to God as white as you came –
The Kingliest warrior born!

Joaquin Miller (1839-1913)

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I know how often I took you for granted
when I was growing up.
I always assumed you’d be there
when I needed you…
and you always were.

But I never really thought about what that meant
till I got older and began to realize
how often your time and energy were devoted to me.
so now, for all the times I didn’t say it before,
thank you, Mom…. I love you so very much!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“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 “MOTHER,”
A word that means the world to me.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Your mother is always with you…

She’s the whisper of the leaves
as you walk down the street.

She’s the smell of bleach in
your freshly laundered socks.

She’s the cool hand on your
brow when you’re not well.

Your mother lives inside
your laughter. She’s crystallized
in every tear drop…

She’s the place you came from,
your first home.. She’s the map you
follow with every step that you take.

She’s your first love and your first heart
break….and nothing on earth can separate you.

Not time, Not space…
Not even death….
will ever separate you
from your mother….

You carry her inside of you….

Sherry Martin

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Best friends forever mom and me
picking flowers and climbing trees.
a shoulder to cry on secrets to share
Warm hearts and hands that really care.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I said a Mother’s Day prayer for you
to thank the Lord above
for blessing me with a lifetime
of your tenderhearted love.

I thanked God for the caring
you’ve shown me through the years,
for the closeness we’ve enjoyed
in time of laughter and of tears.

And so, I thank you from the heart
for all you’ve done for me
and I bless the Lord for giving me
the best mother there could be!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Mom You’ve given me so much,
Love from your heart and the warmth of your touch.

The gift of life and you’re a friend to me.
We have a very Special Bond which only comes from God…
I’m sure you agree.

As a child I would say Mommy I Love You,
Now you’re my Mother so dear
I love you even more with each and every new year.

If I could had chosen, I would have picked no other.
Than for you … to be my lifelong friend and Precious Mother.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Mom, for all these years
I’m sure you’ve had
a heart full of hopes and dreams
and special longings of your own.

And you’ve always listened and shared
my dreams, my wishes, and my heartaches
as if they were the only ones in the world…

That takes a lot of love, Mom
I understand that now
and I hope you realize
how much I thank you…
how much I love you…
and how much I wish you happiness.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

My Mother, my friend so dear
throughout my life you’re always near.
A tender smile to guide my way
You’re the sunshine to light my day.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

As I look back on my life
I find myself wondering…..
Did I remember to thank you
for all that you have done for me?

For all of the times you were by my side
to help me celebrate my successes
and accept my defeats?

Or for teaching me the value of hard work,
good judgement, courage, and honesty?

I wonder if I’ve ever thanked you for the simple things…
The laughter, smiles, and quiet times we’ve shared?

If I have forgotten to express my gratitude
For any of these things,
I am thanking you now….
and I am hoping that you’ve known all along,
how very much you are loved and appreciated.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

You  know you are a mom when –

1. You count the sprinkles on each kid’s cupcake to make sure they’re equal.

2. You find yourself cutting your husbands’ sandwiches into cute shapes.

3. You can’t bear to give away baby clothes – it’s so final.

4. You hear your mother’s voice coming out of your mouth when you say, “NOT in your good clothes!”

5. You stop criticizing the way your mother raised you.

6. You hire a sitter because you have’t been out with your husband in ages, then spend half the night checking on the kids.

7. You say at least once a day, “I’m not cut out for this job”, but you know you wouldn’t trade it for anything

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Real Mothers don’t eat quiche; they don’t have time to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried playdough doesn’t come out of shag carpet.

Real Mothers sometimes ask “why me?” and get their answer when a little voice says, “because I love you best.”

Real Mothers know that a child’s growth is not measured by height or years or grade. . .

It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mommy to Mother.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Sweet dreams, for a shade
O’er my lovely infant’s head,
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams
By happy silent moony beams.

Sweet sleep, with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet sleep, Angel mild,
Hover o’er my happy child.

Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my delight;
Sweet smiles, Mother’s smiles,
All the livelong night beguiles.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes.
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.

Sleep, sleep, happy child.
All creation slept and smil’d
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,
While o’er thee thy mother weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face
Holy image I can trace.
Sweet babe, once like thee
Thy maker lay and wept for me,

Wept for me, for thee, for all,
When he was an infant small.
Thou his image ever see,
Heavenly face that smiles on thee,

Smiles on thee, on me, on all,
Who became an infant small.
Infant smiles are his own smiles;
Heaven and earth to peace beguiles.

William Blake 1757-1827

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

A child’s a plaything for an hour;
Its pretty tricks we try
For that or for a longer space –
Then tire, and lay it by.

But I knew one that to itself
All seasons could control;
That would have mock’s the sense of pain
Out of a grieved soul.

Thou straggler into loving arms,
Young climber-up of knees
When I forget thy thousand ways
Then life and all shall cease.

Mary Lamb 1765-1847

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I sing of a maiden
That is makeles;
King of all kings
To her son she ches.

He came al so still
There his mother was,
As dew in April
That falleth on teh grass.

He came al so still
To his mother’s bour,
As dew in April
That falleth on the flour.

Ha came al still
There his mother lay,
As dew in April
That falleth on the spray.

Mother and maiden
Was never none but she;
Well may such a lady
Goddes mother be.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Land of Hope and Glory, Mother of the Free,
How shall we extol thee, who are born of thee?
Wider still and wider shall thy bounds be set;
God who made thee mighty, make thee mightier yet.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

When God thought of mother,
He must have laughed with satisfaction,
and framed it quickly –
so rich, so deep, so divine,
so full of soul, power, and beauty,
was the conception.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky,
Hundreds of shells on the shore together,
Hundreds of birds that go singing by,
Hundreds of birds 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 wide world over.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

A mother is a font and spring of life,
A mother is a forest in whose heart
Lies hid a secret ancient as the hills,
For men to claim and take its wealth away;
And like the forest shall her wealth renew
And give, and give again, that men may live.

– Francis Cardinal Spellman

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Open her eyes
to the blessings around her
Show her that beauty and
goodness surround her.
Help her to trust in the future,
not fear it.
Teach her that dreams are the winds of the spirit,
Guide her with wisdom and
gentle persuasion
For she is God’s pleasure
-His flower of creation.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

In the times before Bank Holidays
Farmer’s boys and servant girls
Left the farm or big house early,
Going home for the day
On Mothering Sunday
Though home was miles away,
With flowers for their mother’s present
Gathered as they went.

It’s different these days:
All you have to do is stop
At the flower shop
With the pocket money you’ve saved
And the daffodils there
Came by train or even by plane;
But the present still means the same
For the language of flowers doesn’t change.

– Stanley Cook

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

This morning,
In the hush of dawn,
I knew the miracle of birth –
I looked on the small child
In my arms –
And felt full ownership
Of earth!

– Katherine Edelman

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

They tell us of an Indian tree

Which howsoe’er the sun and sky

May tempt its boughsd to wander free,

And shoot and blossom, wide and high,

Far better loves to bend its arms

Downward again to that dear earth

From which the life that fills and warms

Its grateful being, first had birth,

‘Tis thus, though wooed by flattering friends,

And fed with fame (if fame it may be),

This heart, my own dear mother, bends,

With love’s true instinct, back to thee!

– Thomas Moore

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

A mother is someone to shelter and guide us,
To love us, whatever we do,
With a warm understanding and infinite patience,
And wonderful gentleness, too.

How often a mother means swift reassurance
In soothing our small, childish fears,
How tenderly mothers watch over their children
And treasure them all through the years!

The heart of a mother is full of forgiveness
For any mistake, big or small,
And generous always in helping her family
Whose needs she has placed above all.

A mother can utter a word of compassion
And make all our cares fall away,
She can brighten a home with the sound of her laughter
And make life delightful and gay.

A mother possesses incredible wisdom
And wonderful insight and skill –
In each human heart is that one special corner
Which only a mother can fill!

– Katherine Nelson Davis

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

God took the fragrance of a flower…
The majesty of a tree…
The gentleness of morning dew…
The calm of a quiet sea…
The beauty of the twilight hour…
The soul of a starry night…
The laughter of a rippling brook…
The grace of a bird in flight…
Then God fashioned from these things
A creation like no other,
And when his masterpiece was through
He called it simply – Mother.

– Herbert Farnham

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Help me dear Lord, as a mother, I pray
And bless these hands folded in prayer today;
May they be ever strong as they guide, as they teach,
Beings never too far for a child to reach.
May they never, with selfishness, try to dissuade,
Nor too quickly punish, nor too slowly aid.
May they point out the pleasures in laughter and song,
And may they show, wisely, the right from the wrong,
So that one day I’ll know that I’ve helped all I can
To make her a woman, to make him a man.

– Mary A. Loberg

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Because she is

My Mother,

I so well understand
Why flowers bloom
Beneath the touch
Of her gentle hand,

– Mary R. Hurley

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

She Walks in elegance whose heart
Is filled with beauty, like the sprong
Her gentlenss is but a part
Of all the joy her graces bring.

The htings she taught me at her knee
Are honesty and faith and love,
No one is lovelier than she
Whose soul is joined with things above.

– Charlotte Carpenter

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

When Mother came to our room
To tuck us in at night,
Her face would look so gentle
In the soft, bedside light.

And though we may not always
Have behaved our best that day,
She’d let us know she loved us
In a very special way:

An extra fold to the coverlet,
A little pat, a hug,
And we’d settle down to dreamland
Feeling safe and snug.

And of all the childhood memories
That there have ever been,
We love best to recall the times
When Mother tucked us in.

– Mary R. Hurley

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Your Love is like an island
In life’s ocean, vast and wide,
A peaceful quiet shelter
From the wind and rain and tide.

Above it like a beacon light
Shone faith and truth and prayer;
And through the changing scenes of life,
I find a haven there.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

It makes me feel very odd
To write you this letter tonight,
When it seems, or it seems pretty nearly,
That you’re somewhere around, out of sight.

I can hardly believe you’re not sitting
Upstairs (though I know you are not),
Just doing your mending or knitting…
I miss you a lot!

I wish I had smoe more new to tell you.
I’m not doing much that is sport.
I’m getting my lessons so well, you
Will smile when you see my report.

I’ve had a bad cols but I’m better;
I wasn’t to tell, I forgot.
Please write me a very long letter.
I miss you a lot!

The kisses will count up to thirty
If you consider a kiss for each blot.
Heaps of love, from your little bertie.
P.S. I miss you a lot!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

They were lovely, all the mothers

of the days of long ago,

With their gentle, quiet faces

And their hair as white as snow.

They were middle-aged at forty,

at fifty donned lace caps

And at sixty clung to shoulder shawls

and loved their little naps.

But I love the modern mother

who can share in all our joys,

And who understands the problems

of her growing girls and boys.

She may boast that she’s older,

but her heart is twenty-three…

My glorious bright-eyed mother

Who is keeping young with me.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

think God took the fragrance

of a flower,

A pure white flower, which blooms

not for world praise

But which makes sweet and beautiful

some bower;

The compassion of the dew,

which gently lays

Reviving freshness on

the fainting earth,

And gives to all the tired things

new birth;

The steadfastness and radiance

of stars

Which lift the soul above

confining bars;

The gladness of fair dawns;

the sunset’s peace;

Contentment which from trivial rounds

asks no release;

The life which finds its greatest joy

in deeds of love for others…

I think God took these precious things

and made of them…mothers.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

These are the years, the gentle years,
the soft and sentimental years

when wee little fingers
reach and touch
and little eyes gaze
with wonder and trust,
when you love so tenderly
and so so much,
these are the gentle years.

These are the years, the rainbow years,
the quiet, walk-on-tiptoes years,

the years of laughter
and smiles and sighs
when both of you watch
with misty eyes
the tiny bed
where a cherub lies,
these are the rainbow years.

These are the years, the tender years,
the blissful, sweet-surrender years,

when your little treasure
from above
is the soul and purpose
and center of
your plans and dreams
and dearest love,
these are the tender years.

– Barbara Burrow

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

They are angels of God in disguise;
His sunlight still gleams in their tresses;
His glory still gleams in their eyes.

– Charles M. Dickinson

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

In her eyes

the look of loving,

In her smile

The warmth of caring.

In her hands

the touch of comfort,

In her heart

the gift of sharing.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

What is a Mother?-
She’s someone who shares
In all of your problems,
Your joys and your cares-

Someone who gives you
Right from the start
The warmth and the loves
Of her motherly heart * * *

Someone who’s loyal
And helpful and dear
And seems to grow more so
As year follows year * * *

Life is much brighter
And happier, too
Because there are Mothers-
Mothers like you.

– J. Kyler McManus

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

For all the blessings life has brought,
For all its sorrowing hours have taught,
For all we mourn, for all we keep,
The hands we clasp, the loved that sleep,
We thank Thee, Father: let Thy grace
Our loving circle still embrace,
Thy mercy shed its heavenly store,
Thy peace be with us evermore.

– Oliver Wendell Holmes

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

So when the great word “Mother!” rang once more,

I saw at last its meaning and its place;
Not the blind passion of the brooding past,

But Mother – the World’s Mother – come at last,

To love as she had never loved before –
To feed and guard and teach the human race.

– Charlotte Perkins Gilman

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Who fed me from her gentle breast,
And hushed me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?

My Mother.

When pain and sickness made me cry,

Who gazed upon my heavy eye,

And wept, for fear that I should die?

My Mother.

Who dressed my doll in clothes so gay,

And fondly taught me how to play,
And minded all I had to say?
My Mother.

Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?

My Mother.

And can I ever cease to be

Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who was so very kind to me?

My Mother.

– Anne Taylor

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Mother, I love you so.

Said the child, I love you more than I know.
She laid her head on her mother’s arm,
And the love between them kept them warm.

– Stevie Smith

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Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you, and though they are with you, and yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love, but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward, not tarries with yesterday.

– Kahlil Gibran

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Hope you have liked Mother’s Day 2012 Poems.

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