Weekly Poetry from Poems for Free: A Mother's Day Poem and More


Hinder not the happiness
Alive within the heart.
Perhaps it’s only natural,
Perhaps it is an art.
Yet many rarely feel it,
Many do not know
Of the eternal music
That makes the moment flow.
How might one listen to it
Except to sing and dance,
Reveling in beauty
‘Mid clarity and trance?
Singing to the mothers,
Dear vessels of the soul,
As Mary was to Jesus,
Yielding glory whole.


The happiness I feel at your achievements
Reflects the happiness you feel at mine.
Friends expand the pleasures of such moments,
As mine in yours, and yours in mine, combine.
The same when we look forward to our futures:
So much more unfolds when there are two!
Populating your proposed adventures
Gives me a joy that mine must give to you.
We’ve been through much, and will be through much more,
But traveling together is more fun.
Whatever life and love may have in store,
Two is always preferable to one.
Your graduation thus becomes my pleasure:
Your happiness is mine, a double treasure.


You’re my Romeo
And I’m your Juliet,
But we have neither Montague
Nor scheming Capulet.

Instead we struggle with the rent
And work to buy a house;
And wait till we can take a breath
To think of the word “spouse.”

Our days are hills we have to climb,
And nights … well, we must sleep.
And when I watch you lift the world
And laugh, I want to weep.

No early death ennobles us,
Nor legend turned to gold;
Yet we would shine as bright as they
Were our tale told.


Evelyn likes to walk in alpine meadows
Veiled in the mist of early light.
Eventually, day will follow night,
Leaving her awash in brilliant flowers.
Yet Evelyn prefers the half-tone hours,
Neither fully lit nor lost in shadows.


Forty-four undoes some double knots,
Opening the laces of his love,
Recognizing just how good it feels
To let some inner stranger call the shots,
Yearning for the tears that make time real.

For him there are no platitudes to prove,
Or long-held notions to fit into slots.
Underneath the wagon is the wheel,
Returning, turning, whither one might move.


Happy second anniversary!
As time wears on, the newness wears away;
Passion turns to pleasurable play;
Preference becomes necessity.
Years are markers towards a transformation
Slow and unobtrusive as a tide
Elevating vessels side by side,
Changing both, but ever in relation.
On this, your second, then, may you rejoice,
Nestled in the chamber of your choice,
Destined by your love for celebration.


A mother casts her dreams into the sea;
We, the words sent bobbing towards the sun,
The eggs of stone, the shards of prophesy.

Because she must conclude her melody
And fall back to the sweet dark hush of One,
A mother casts her dreams into the sea,

Hoping to cross that wild infinity
And on some infant shore again to run,
The eggs of stone, the shards of prophesy

Outside the fiery circle of memory,
The howling surf, the incessant years undone …
A mother casts her dreams into the sea

And then dissolves into a tapestry,
Her rolling, helpless drift again begun,
The eggs of stone, the shards of prophesy

Afloat once more upon eternity,
Once more the alien fury, never done …
Again, again, her dreams into the sea,
The eggs of stone, the shards of prophesy!

Source by Nicholas Gordon

Fahad Hameed

Fahad Hashmi is one of the known Software Engineer and blogger likes to blog about design resources. He is passionate about collecting the awe-inspiring design tools, to help designers.He blogs only for Designers & Photographers.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *