Poetry Sunday (12)

This is a fabulous blog feature here at Eli to the nth!  Poetry is one of my passions, but I often don't have an opportunity to share that passion.  This feature gives me the perfect opportunity to do so!  Thanks to Genna from Reading, Writing, and the World of Words, who created this awesome feature and gave me the permission to host it here, as well as, use her cute graphic!

I haven't, unfortunately, posted a Poetry Sunday since 2011.  But since April was National Poetry Month (check out my posts) my love for poetry was re-ignited, and I want to continue to share it!

In honor of Mother's Day, I've got a couple of fabulous poems all about moms!  Share one with a mom or mom-to-be in your life!  If you have any poems, share them in the comments!

Mother's Day
by David Young

        —for my children

I see her doing something simple, paying bills,

or leafing through a magazine or book,

and wish that I could say, and she could hear,

that now I start to understand her love

for all of us, the fullness of it.

It burns there in the past, beyond my reach,

a modest lamp.

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Untitled [A house just like his mother's]  

by Gregory Orr

A house just like his mother's,

But made of words.

Everything he could remember

Inside it:

Parrots and a bowl

Of peaches, and the bright rug

His grandmother wove.

Shadows also—mysteries

And secrets.

Corridors

Only ghosts patrol.

And did I mention

Strawberry jam and toast?

Did I mention

That everyone he loved

Lives there now,

In that poem

He called "My Mother’s House?"

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[Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome]  

by Christina Rossetti

Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome

Has many sonnets: so here now shall be

One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me

To her whose heart is my heart’s quiet home,

To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee

I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;

Whose service is my special dignity,

And she my loadstar while I go and come

And so because you love me, and because

I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath

Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honored name:

In you not fourscore years can dim the flame

Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws

Of time and change and mortal life and death.

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