The Poet's Desk Authors Presenting
Mother's Day Edition 2004A

Sweet Memories

Mother filled us with sweet memories,
She was all the beauty of flowers,
She had gentleness that kissed our hearts,
And her love poured nurturing showers.

This is the day of Mother's Birthday,
How we'd each love to have her close here,
We miss her love Oh so beautiful,
And sweet White Shoulders scent always near.

Happy Birthday to you in heaven,
Mother we'll always love you so much,
We know you're most happy with Jesus,
But your sweet face we would love to touch.

When we see God's beauty blooming now,
Our hearts send a Happy Mother's Day,
The red and yellow roses are you,
Lovely and fragrant in every way.

God's blessed us with your sweet memories,
And we thank the Lord for you Mother,
Beautiful still and you'll always be,
We love you, Mother, like no other.

©Sondra McPherson
April 16, 2004


Bottled Memories

Sweet sweet perfume
Recognize it anywhere
That older lady shopper, strolls by passing a familiar smile
A shadowy whiff surrounds us-
'Red Door'
A bottle of sweet memories
Catching my breath as she vanishes into the crowd
Somebody's mother-
Oh how I miss mine
'for as long as there is the sweet smell of perfume, there shall be forever
sweet memories of mothers.'

©Debbie Stevens©2003




Mother - who gave me my life 
Mother - who then helped me grow 
Mother - I owe you so much 
Mother - thanks to you I have life's glow 

Mother - you're the warmth of the sun 
Mother - you're a shining star 
Mother - you are always near 
Mother - even when I am so far 

Mother - such a precious name 
Mother - music to my ears 
Mother - soothing, calming voice 
Mother - can remove all of my fears 

Mother - gave me precious love 
Mother - such love cannot die 
Mother - and forever I give 
Mother - all my love and I can't lie

© Marianne aka Songviolin 


Mother's Jewels

Some women take great pride in the jewels they wear,
They want to show the world that they have wealth.
My mother never wore diamonds or pearls anywhere,
She polished us up and tried to keep us in good health.

I look at photos of her when she was young and I know,
That she would have been so beautiful in colorful gems.
I just didn't understand until now that jewels are just for show,
She looked so plain standing by the sink singing hymns.

As the years have passed and age has taken hold,
I see that her precious jewels were beyond compare.
We were the gems that couldn't be bought or sold,
We meant more than rings or fancy combs for her hair.

She never saw the flaws and imperfections in her stones,
She held us out proudly for all the world to see.
She stood beside of us to let us know we weren't alone,
I hope that I'm the diamond she always envisioned me to be.

My mother never wore strings of pearls to match her dress,
A solid gold band was the only ring I saw her touch.
Now that she is lost in her own world I must confess,
I finally understand how she could love us so much.

For my own children are just diamonds in the rough,
I stand by them and catch my breath when they try to fly.
There have been times when loving them was tough,
My mother did the same thing and now I know why.

Her diamonds and pearls where four girls and a boy,
She handled each one of us so very tenderly.
We brought her pain but we also brought her joy,
And I'm so glad that she saw a precious jewel in me.

Dianna Doles Petry
Proud founder of:
Women With A Unique Soul

Beautiful Baby

Beautiful baby
like a little turtle-
small and staring at me-

I smile and she giggles back.

I got some news-
I got airplanes-
and kites.

'Make sure you hold onto her
tight', I say-
and look back
at the mother in diamond
slippers. "This bus driver
doesn't know what he is

Nah, this never happens-
Ladies around here, if they are
ladies, can't speak English.

Baby bottles fall-
And the least I could do-
is help out- swerving everywhere-
and tumbled-
this ride-
"Thank You", she says-
Ahh, she does speak English-
Oh is that thee only two words
she knows?
So she gets up and holds-
her baby- as I prayed-
and her left hand
pushes on the seat-
in the world
much to a blue
gray and orange- and sky
blue, again
and again

Now my stop is here.

©Christopher Fabbri



Mothers Day In Heaven

Mothers day is drawing near,
But you are not with us anymore,
Spending mothers day with angels,
On that great eternal shore.

I long to see you face again mom,
And get a hug from you,
Sometimes I get so lonely here,
I find things hard to do.

God took the best when He took you,
But He knew you were suffering pain,
He knew you carried burdens too
Time and time again.

I am glad you are home with Jesus, mom,
For there's no safer place to be,
Now your sorrow is forever gone,
And throughout eternity.

Never a day goes by, but I think of you,
Your blue eyes and smiling face,
I bet you make a beautiful angel,
And so blessed by God's sweet grace.

Happy Mothers Day, mom in heaven,
I'm coming to see you very soon,
It's then we will sing new songs together,
While we are making brand new tunes.

©Ann Hart
April 20th 2004
Written for a precious mother,
Gone home to be with Jesus.



It was only a silly old snapshot
And Mother had said, that day,
That she wished we wouldn't take it.
She wished we would throw it away.

The wind in her hair made it fuzzy
And the sun was bright in her eyes.
But, we were glad we had captured,
On film, one so camera-shy.

Often thereafter, we begged her
To let us try one more shot.
But, she was so full of excuses.
And later on, we just forgot.
Weeks slip away into seasons
And seasons, too soon, become years.
Life's silver thread is so fragile.
Passing brings so many tears!

But, I came, once again, 'cross the picture,
That she said we never could take,
And I'm thankful to God, up in Heaven,
She gave in, just for our sake.

For, the wind in her hair seemed so proper
And the sun gave a gleam to her eyes.
I treasure a dear piece of paper,
Remembrance of earth's finest prize!

© Joan Clifton Costner


Music: The Water Is Wide,
Traditional English Folktune
Sequenced by
Barry Taylor


Jimmy Carden Technical Assistant
Sondra McPherson, Gayle Davis Editorial Assistants