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Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Mother's Day Poems

Mothers DayBy Carol Matthews 

A Mother loves right from the start.
She holds her baby close to her heart.
The bond that grows will never falter.
Her love is so strong it will never alter.
A Mother gives neverending Love.
She never feels that she has given enough.
For you she will always do her best.
Constantly working, there's no time to rest.
A Mother is there when things go wrong.
A hug and a kiss to help us along.
Always there when we need her near.
Gently wipes our eyes when we shed a tear.
So on this day shower your Mother with Love.
Gifts and presents are nice but that is not enough.
Give your Mother a day to have some peace of mind.
Be gentle, be good, be helpful, be kind.
Happy Mothers Day.


Mother 
By Ray Prillwitz
What day is this?
It's Mother's Day,
When children honor Mother. 
To thank her for her care and love 

That transcends all the others.
We think of how she kissed our hurtsAnd brushed away our tears. 
She taught us truth and confidence
And talked away our fears. 
She packed our lunch and sent us off 

To school day after day;
And those, too young, she kept at home 
And joined in with their play.
She cooked our meals and washed our clothes
And picked up all our toys.
She settled squabbles, bandaged knees,
And quieted our noise.A mother's job is never done; 
It's full-time work, it's true.
No matter how much work she does 
There's always more to do.
 
If Heaven grants a special crown
To one who helps another, 
Then we are sure the greatest one
Will be for you--our Mother! 



Somebody's Mother
By Mary Dow Brine 

The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winter's day. 
The street was wet with a recent snowAnd the woman's feet were aged and slow. 
She stood at the crossing and waited long, 
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng
 
Of human beings who passed her by
 
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
 
Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of 'school let out,
"
 Came the boys like a flock of sheep, 
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
 
Past the woman so old and gray

Hastened the children on their way. 
Nor offered a helping hand to her
-- 
So meek, so tired, afraid to stir 
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet

Should crowd her down in the slippery street. 
At last came one of the merry troop, 

The gayest laddie of all the group;
 
He paused beside her and whispered low,

'I'll help you cross, if you wish to go." 
Her aged hand on his strong young arm 

She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
 
He guided the trembling feet along,
 
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
 
Then back again to his friends he went, 
His young heart happy and well content.
 
'She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow, 
'And I hope some fellow will lend a handTo help my mother, you understand, 
'If ever she's poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away.' 
And "somebody's mother" bowed low her headIn her home that night, and the prayer she saidWas, 'God be kind to the noble boy, 
Who is somebody's son, and pride and joy!" 


Wonderful Mother
By Pat O'Reilly 

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.


And Grandma's Too...
 


"While we honor all our mothers
with words of love and praise. 
While we tell about their goodness
 
and their kind and loving ways. 

We should also think of Grandma, 

she's a mother too, you see....
 
For she mothered my dear mother
as my mother mothers me." 

Mother's Love


Her 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 lightShine Faith, and Truth, and Prayer; 
And thro' the changing scenes of life
I find a haven there. 

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.

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...

Poem : Dear Angel


Dear Angel

Dear angel ever at my side,
how lovely you must be,
To leave your home in heaven
to guard a child like me!

When I am far away from home,
or maybe hard at play,
I know you will protect me
from harm along the way.

Your beautiful and shining face
I see not, though you're near,
The sweetness of your lovely voice,
I cannot really hear.

But when I pray
you're praying too,
your prayer is just for me.
And when I sleep, you never do -
you're watching over me!

-Author Unknown

Poems about Life

This is Life 

I saw the glory of the sunrise,

Breathed the invigorating air,
And my soul rose to the very skies 
When I sallied forth, proud to dare.
 
That was the morning.


The awful heat of the day came down;
I stooped, and my brow was wet with sweat.
And when I saw Misfortune frown I cried,
"I am not conquered yet!"
 
That was the noonday.


The softer shades of twilight fell
And released my grip in the strife.
I am contented now to dwell
Where understanding sweetens life.. 
This is eventide.


I bargained with Life for a penny


I bargained with Life for a penny, 
And Life would pay no more,

However I begged at evening 
When I counted my scanty store;


For Life is a just employer,
He gives you what you ask, 
But once you have set the wages,
 
Why, you must bear the task.
 

I worked for a menial's hire,

Only to learn, dismayed,
That any wage I had asked of Life, 
Life would have gladly paid!


What I live For


I live for those who love me,
For those who know me true,
For the Heaven that smiles above me, 
And awaits my spirit too;

For the cause that lacks assistance,For the wrong that needs resistance, 
For the future in the distance, 

And the good that I can do.

Poem - Love is a Journey


Love is a journey

I have matured into love
three times in my life,
and have discovered with each
a freedom beyond measure.
Each time it happened
I was left wondering;
What did really happen?
Why was I feeling this way?
It took some time to realize
that what I was feeling
was a sense of exuberant goodness
about myself and my life.
The simple fact that I loved someone
made my world a little lovelier,
gave my life a purpose,
and put a spring in my step.
Making love a gift rather than a request
is the highest expression of freedom.
It releases us and gives our spirit wings.
It shows us the real beauty of ourselves and the person we love.
As a result I have decided that
love is a journey towards itself,
that we have no real control over it,
but that it can be the ride of a lifetime if we take it.
To fall into love is common.
To rise into love is exquisite.
To mature into love changes us
and our view of the world forever...

Poems about Lovers


You called today

I awoke this morning and I couldn't move.
I didn't want to open my eyes.
I didn't want to face another day alone.
The night was bad enough.
Finally I rolled over and peeked at the clock. 5:30 it said.
And I noticed that the pillow was damp again.
It's not that I felt sorry for myself.
It's just that life is so Goddamn short.
I don't believe in reincarnation.
Life is a one-shot deal as far as I can make out.
You live, you love, you make the world a little better.
Then you die and it's all over, forever.
Does anything really matter?
Politicians, generals, dictators,
and countless other rude, obnoxious people
all vying for your time, and fighting over your life.
Sometimes I feel an overwhelming urge
to find an island,
where we could lay on the beach and make love
and walk naked in the breeze. Our own little Eden.
Would I pick the apples?
You damn right I would, just the way God picked 'em.
I'm not a little person who needs permission.
I know what apples taste like. They are delicious.
So I go down to the market and buy a bag of apples,
go to the park, sit on a bench and eat one.
But it isn't the same. I know it never will be.
I come home again, leaving the apples behind.
Then you call, and everything changes.
I notice that the sun is shining for the first time,
and I don't feel so alone anymore.
Maybe sometime we could wake up together. You think?

Lovers

If you want to be a lover
you must learn how to hurt.
You love, you hurt, you love.
It's called living.
It's not a female thing.
It's not a male thing.
It's a person thing.
You know?

To all the women I have loved

Some of you have wanted to put me in a little box
that you could open and play with when the mood hit you.
But I always broke free and flew away didn't I?
I've often wondered what you thought
when you opened the box one day
and I wasn't there, smiling up at you.
Some of you were on your little trip.
You felt oppressed, hurt and afraid.
I played along because I didn't know what else to do.
But I soon tired of your selfish ways,
and left quietly when you were sleeping,
realizing that you would get along fine without me.
Some of you were so good for me.
You laughed and loved and made me feel
like the richest man in the world.
We made love for hours,
and the hours melted into lifetimes,
and I forgot the deathly silence of being alone.
Some of you were so special I fell in love with you,
even before we made love, even before we became friends,
we fell in love and explored love from the other side.
Some of you have wanted me to fly and said so.
Some of you flew along with me for a time.
You are the lovers I miss. You know who you are.
I love you.

Poems about Friendship


Six beautiful little words

I listened to a gifted jazz musician tell a story one evening,
about how he lost his girlfriend and sister to cancer in the same month.
He had no music in his life anymore after that happened.
Then a friend spoke six little words that turned his world around.
"Come play with me for awhile" he said.
"Come play with me for awhile."
At a time when you are the most vulnerable,
and you need a friend in a special way,
most friends stay away because they are afraid.
Why are we all so afraid of being used?
Sometimes we just need someone to show us that
the world can still be a beautiful place. No strings attached.


You give me a sense of pride

When I see the way mankind treats the world,
I feel ashamed of being human.
When I see the way we treat each other,
I feel ashamed of being a person.
When I see the way some men treat women,
I feel ashamed of being a man.
But when I look at you,
at the way you treat your family and your friends,
at the way you treat your wife and yourself,
at the way you exercise your responsibilities,
at the values by which you live your life,
I begin to look at things a little differently.
I begin to feel proud again.
And I smile more...

Someday

For most of your life
you have been running away.
I understand you.
In a world where there is so much hurt,
this is the safest response.
I understand you.
But I am different.
I hope you will see this. I hope
you will come to understand me.
Someday...

I have devoured your doubt

I told you it was possible
to love more than one.
I have devoured your doubt
and shown you a new world,
our world,
God's world.
If everyone thought as you do now
the devil would die
a quick and painless death
and you could roll over
and sleep in unguarded peace,
with the final, quiet knowledge
that I pose no threat to you...

Freedom, friendship, love, and flowers

A yellow rose is freedom and friendship.
A red rose is love and passion.
I wish for you
both yellow roses
and red roses
all the rest of your life.

An Erotic Sex Poem

Delivered

an erotic sex poem written by a woman about making love


By Shelley Cates Martin


Encapsulated in arms, back pressing chest,
Bareness embedded in manhood,
I lay aroused as silent you dream,
Pulse keeping time with my heart.

I wonder where you are,
Wishing for your awakening,
A taking from behind,
Without care the alarm rings so early.

Then sweet surprise, you're stirring,
Sleepy fingers fondling,
Feeding wanton hungering,
In the wee hours of morning.
Knowing you desire me more than sleep,
Evokes my entirety to fervor,
A warmth exuding as your own private fountain,
Called forth to flow for your pleasure.
Side to back, head to foot,
Ampleness piercing entrance,
Intertwining like scissors,
We lock in a dance of ecstasy.
Hips thrusting thighs, mound reaching high,
Riding swelling waves,
Engulfed by a raging river,
Threatening to erupt floodgates.
Your passionate unrestraint Opens my mind, Loosing its aching yearnings, A secret longing fulfilled. And flying free, my soul Escapes these earthly confines, Heaven bound, To find it' s beendelivered. 

Erotic Poems


Fantasy Fulfilled
an erotic sex poem written by a woman about making love

Pretending to be your call-girl one night,
I come around looking just right,
To your front door in my spike-healed boots,
Anxious to see if the outfit suits.

Taking time as if not to tear paper,
You lift my skirt and then say "wait here."
Turning on the lights of the Christmas tree,
You're back unwrapping the package that's me.

Pushing towards the window and into the chair,
The cars driving by all catch a stare,
As you part my legs wide with your knees,
At me arching back with a need to please.
Then down before me on your knees,
Nibbling passionately you begin to tease,
Tracing my panties with your nose,
Savoring the fragrance, your eyes gently closed.
Caressing petals with your chin,
You cause my mouth to form a grin,
Sighing as you lick with leisure,
A cone full of your favorite flavor.
Not content with this petting for long,
Like a cat, the urge so strong,
I begin to purr in reverie,
Spreading my lips, wet with honey.

Using my fingers to stir the flow,
Knowing you like watching the show,
To your mouth I offer a taste,
And you don't let a drop go to waste.

Whispering, "tell me what you need,"
No more time for play, I plead,
"I will do anything you ask,
Fulfilling your fantasy is my task."

By Shelley Cates Martin

Doorway

Do not enter greedily.
I am not ready
To entrust you yet
With my secret.

Place your fingers around my knob,
But dare not come inside to rob.
Slowly trace, along my crevice slide,
But do not spread me open wide.

First press yourself against me gently,
Listen for a sign of entry.
I will tell you when it's time,
With the rhythm of my rhyme.

Until then linger without a sound;
Letting imagination keep you around.
I'll ignite you with my tongue,
Whispering ancient tunes unsung.
And when my resistance wearing thin,
Aches enough to let you in,
Tired of taunting drop by drop,
I'll beg you in to never stop.

By Shelley Cates Martin

Erotic Sex Poems I

The Massage


A virgin ship sailing, I embarked on the journey of you,
Kneading fingers navigating my every position,
Heart racing with desire only a woman can understand,
Once she has met the power of a man,

One who can take her, wake the core of her erotic longing.
I lay face down at your command,
As you came around and sat legs spread,
Drawing my head towards your bare intentions,
Rubbing away my inhibitions.
One stroke at a time,
I rocked to your gripping rhythm,
Ever so innocently brushing your outstretched shaft
With my hair swept face.
Swaying between your thighs,
My sighs showing you appreciation,
I refrained from reaching out my tongue,
Aching to take you in,
Stopping to cherish that moment in time,
A moment of innocence between us,
One that will never be again.

By Shelley Cates Martin


Locks

Come to me,
Lay with me,
I want to take you all in,
Deeply,
Steal your air,
Smell your skin,
Tempt in silent darkness,
Bare.
Hover,
Skim the rims
Of my cavern,
Fair.
Detect for what I protect,
My treasure,
As you dare to explore for
Pleasure.
And if you wish for entry,
It will be granted,
I resist no more,
The locks to my door grow weak.
By Shelley Cates Martin


Instinct

She would never try to conquer him;
She knows her place.
Her purpose is to serve.
Wild huntress, stalker in the night,
Crouches in reverence at his might.Lone predator, ruler of all she sees, 
Offers submission, whimpering pleas.
Taking command, he forces her still,Something says, "bend to his will."
Making known
 his rein, he plays the part,
With mounting, fire quakes her heart.

She waits with shear anticipation,
On the coming of elation,
Laying all power at his feet,
Never trying to usurp his seat.
By Shelley Cates Martin

Erotic Sex Poems II

Mystery

I wish you could know how it feels to be me,
Why I appear so intoxicated,
When I let you inside to seek,
Looking for what you seem to need.
Some nights you enter me, ever so tenderly,
Others you ravage and plunder,
Pervading primed lips, as I silently wonder,
As host, which pair you like most.

Occasionally you command my head,
Forcefully pushing down,
Saturating my mouth with your entirety,
And I succumb to the rhythm that you need.

Intensity enflames me,
As you speak my name in ecstasy,
Igniting a craving, insistent that I mount,
And fuse us with its heat.
At times you're a hungry lion,
Stalking, as soon as I step through your door,
And I fear being torn apart, resisting,
As savagely you thrust, the moment tasting.

Desperately searching,
Exploring for something I hide,
You tunnel further, with every stride,
Into the cave that houses my soul,

Digging for a treasure to make you whole,
One you think is buried within,
Beneath my skin.
Although, I know not what you're mining for,

And so you are,
And forever will remain, a Mystery,
For I can never know what you discover,
Deep inside of me.


By Shelley Cates Martin


Tormented

This is what I meant,
When I said you were killing me,
I'm tormented by my own insanity,
Over you.

I am so tired
Of hurting,
Of crying,
Of longing,

Of this trying that insists,

Of waiting,
Of aching,
Of wanting,
Of this need that persists,

To have you deep inside,
To be at your mercy,
To plead with you to ride,

As I'm whimpering out your name,
Forgetting to breathe,
Hoping you won't leave,

Of feeling like I have no other choice,

Except to be scorched by your fire,
Like a moth to a flame,
Not being able to resist
The beauty hidden in death.

By Shelley Cates Martin

Erotic Sex Poems III


A Perfect Ending
By Shelley Cates Martin

Lingering in the moment, lost in your eyes,
Content, I cherish the sweet surprise.
Kissing tongues tangle, making me ache,
No longer can I wait for you to take.

Laying back, I plead without words,
As if hidden lips could somehow be heard.
Raising hips high to greet your stare,
Hoping to speak to another part of you, aware.

Beckoning please enter with no hesitation,
Yet you stand firm, no reservation,
Taunting me, teasing me, grin on your face,
Admiring how you've put me in place.
Then suddenly, you grant relief,
Knowing now I must have peace.
Penetrating with your pride,
Charging, you thrust deep inside.
Planting feet upon your chest,
To brace us both, I do my best,
Not to scream loud like before,
When places reached cut to the core.
Wondering if you're hurting me,
You ease mo-men-tar-ily,
Slowing, then come "please-don't-stop" pleas,
Whimpering I'm at your mercy.
Back in our entrancing dance,
I catch your eyes stealing a glance,
At contorted expressions, my face in full view,
Proud every one is caused by you.

Then you say, "Oh Lady," gazing,
As in disbelief, you sigh, "amazing,"
Shaking your head, as deeper you dive,
Revealing my power to make you alive.
I know you are close to leaving,
For that place I cannot follow, heavy breathing.
So easing, I bid "please don't leave me,"
Wanting to stay forever in ecstasy.
Pushing you back, I climb high,
Navigating, accepting the time is nigh,
To the edge of heaven as you pursue,
Gauging perfect rhythm between us two.
Panting hard, with quivering shakes,
Not much more can either take,
As each resists the pulsing throbs,
Not wanting to be one who robs.
But there's no stopping from this flight,
Wildly heading for realms beyond night,
Each to our own promised lands we go,
Worlds imagined, the other never knows.
And upon return to this earthly place, The visit lasting just seconds in space, We find each other coming back to ground, From a visit to paradise we each together found!



If Your Walls Could Speak 

If your walls could speak, 
Would they talk about us
 
And the things we do,
 
As silent they witness?
 

Would they tell of how
 
You anxiously turn me to face them,
 
Impatiently shoving me against,
 
As soon as I step through your door...
 

Your left hand holding my neck firmly,
 
The right dropping my defenses to my ankles,
 
Fingers exploring realms,
 
Soaking in delight?
 

Would they express how you make me squirm,
 
And burn with an uncontrollable desire;
 
How I moan for you to get deep inside,
 
Swelling lips begging to be hushed?
 

Would they disclose how you force me to the floor,
Down on all fours, 
While I whimper and writhe,
 
Like a dog, begging for more?
 

And of how I plead with you,
 
To drive yourself in from behind,
 
As they stand watching without a sound,
 
Us imitating two animals in a mating ritual?
 

Would they voice how you raise me from the ground,
 
Thighs straddling your waist,
 
As you slip inside, my legs wrap around,
 
For a ride to your bedroom,
 
Leaving them to wonder what comes next?

By Shelley Cates Martin

" Motivational Video "

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