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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Her face is rough,

skin worn thick

with years of work and worry.

 

Hazel eyes that

gleam with mirth,

that sort the truth from lies.

 

Calloused hands, worn

rough with trying

their every need to fill.

 

Time scarred heart,

kicked and bleeding,

from which the warmth still seeps.

 

Hugs and kisses,

words of praise, and

limits sharply drawn,

because she loves them.

Because she is their mom.

Posted

Mom isn't just a statement of birthing -

Although that is part of it.

 

Mom isn't just a cook -

Although she may do that.

 

Mom doesn't just nurture -

Although she often does.

 

For

 

Mom is a verb of life

As well as the noun

It is an affirmation of caring

She's always around

 

Mom kisses and hugs

But when it's best can say "no"

'Cause she loves you now

And *after* you grow

 

Mom is the one whose choice

Is you over herself

To meet your needs

Her own go on a shelf

 

And while she grows old

And thickens with age

And skin roughens and wrinkles

And advice seems foolish, then sage

 

Her heart's own reward

Comes when you raise

and from your wide-open mouth -

Your Mother you praise.

Posted

Awesome poem. Wish my mom could be here to read it, but she's not.

 

But thanks.. Really warmed me up inside, something I've been needing for a while.

Posted

*sigh* not indicative of my own mother at all, unfortunately.

 

*hugs Wrenwind and X-Sabre*

 

*nods* at Peredhil. True words, and it's so nice to hear, when it comes.

Posted

Heh... The beginning of the song, at least, is relevant:

 

"From the Bible to the popular song

There's one theme that we find right along

Of all ideals they hail as good

The most sublime is Motherhood" - Tom Lehrer: Oedipus Rex.

 

;)

 

Sorry... I'm tired. It was the song I thought of when I read through all this.

Posted

*smile*

not MY mom..

any poem i wrote about my mother creature would be of a totally different tone.

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