Poems about Birth, Motherhood and Being a Woman
Compiled by LLM
Mothers write the most beautiful poetry, because
they speak directly from the heart. Following
are poems that come from the hearts of mothers
about their births and their lives. There are
other poems on this page as well- ones that speak
of the power and beauty of being a woman. Please
feel free to contribute to this page- all of our
words and feelings are needed and important; all
of our voices are beautiful and real!
Also see:
Click to go to the desired poems:
Poems about Pregnancy
and Childbirth
These Last Few Hours
It is important to me
That I spend a part
Of the next few hours
Here alone with you
In the darkness
You and I will never be
This close again
Soon you will be
A tiny person
All on your own.
No longer the kicking,
Demanding bulge in my body
That I have grown to love so much
I pray that you will be safely guided
On your journey to my arms
And I ask for the strength, courage and
The power of birthing, to open my body and mind
for you
And ever so gently us as one will become two
-Author unknown
The Power of My Birth is Timeless
Six years ago
Blind and unthinking
Fearful and crying
I stumbled into a chasm.
I believed those men
With stern words and slick knives
Their promises, their lies
Their threats of deadened lives
If I did not follow.
And swallowed it, I did.
Ignored a distant warning bell
And I fell.
So far down, I thought light would never show
again
Going quietly insane in
So much dark pain.
Six months ago
My love and my body
Brought a child to this world.
Warm, wet, sticky,
Wide eyed and slippery
She greeted me.
She reached out to heal me.
In unspoken bliss
We gazed and we kissed.
The chasm is there
It will always be near
And the fear and the darkness
Still crowd me some days.
But six months ago
With a body aglow
The power of birth
Reclaimed me.
Rachel
UK mum to Rowan (30/10/97) elcs for large abdominal
circumference!? (ruled out)
Rhys (02/02/00) coerced elective repeat cesarean
for going overdue and big baby (9lbs 1oz)
Jenna (20/07/02) triumphant hospital VBA2C - all
10lbs 2.5oz of her
LABORLAND
He declared the world is round
And she said that mountains are the spines of
the earth
I keep my own great worldly discoveries in thought
While I wade through the waters of Laborland
Sinking my feet into the rising tide at sundown..
With every moment that passes, with every breath
I blow
The water swells, encircling ankles
The larger of these, swirl around my calves
And I become suddenly aware of my body
And the great expanse of water before me
I hesitate with caution
...and with curiosity
Pulling gently on my feet that have been sucked
into the sand
I feel immoveable and yet I fear that I will be
swept away
I am part blue water, part red sand
Part struggling mind, drowning and fighting to
escape
(Oh, the poor mind to be so strongly attached
to this laboring body!)
I let my mind float off like a child letting
go of a balloon
...He declared the world is round
And she said that mountains are the spines of
the earth
And I'll tell you, with equal wisdom
That I am that old Elm tree
Just off the highway
Alone it stands at dawn
With the sun rising through its trunk
Born through branches into the sky
Leaving you with the sensation of an eclipse
Staring at the great Elm's silhouette
And trying hard not to veer off the road
Life will flow through me with all of the intensity
of the sun
...He guides labor with the hands of a clock
The hands of her lover, her midwife, family and
friends guide her
I will not be tamed when my strengths emerge
Silenced and scarred by someone's sterile, cruel
vision of placidity
I will instead, feel
I will leave the windows open so that the birds
And the whispering of the wind in the trees
Can call me out of my head
And into my body
Copyright © Samantha Tengelitisch. To
read the birth story that goes with this poem,
click here.
Sahara in the Rain
Soft
I dreamt you,
In the surreal presence of my body
(when I had one).
This was skin
Before it became power,
The roar
That stretched me
Wide
Into the jaws of a lion.
No quiet songs for you
You entered
To the beat of heart drums
And the strong song voice
Of your mother.
-Copyright © Jes
McCullough
AM I?
My heart is beating fast. Am I?
I hold the stick in the stream of urine. The
instructions say; for 5 minutes. My hands are
shaking and I keep pulling it out of the stream.
I quickly put it back in. How long has it been
now. Since I kept moving it, I not sure. I've
ran out, my bladder is empty. I replace the cap
holding it upside down while I do it, as directed.
I quickly lay it flat on the counter, window up.
I look at my watch. The instructions say; read
at three minutes. I should walk away and come
back, but I can't make myself leave. I turn on
the fan light as well. I need all the light I
can get to see if a "positive" line
appears. I stare at the test. The urine moves
slowly across the window. It passes the "test"
area and continues on toward the "control"
area. A pink line slowly appears. The test is
working. I look back at the "test" area,
straining to see another pink line, wishing it,
trying to make it appear. Nothing.
I look at my watch. 30 seconds have passed. The
"control" line is getting darker, reaching
it's full intensity. I glance back to the "test"
area. I blink my eyes trying to make them see
clearer. I stare, hard, do I see a tiny faint
line? No
My heart is pounding, I feel weak. I think I'm
silly for running the test so early. The box says
it can detect pregnancy 4 days earlier than the
others. I'm due in 4 days. It says that only a
certain percent of women will test positive this
early. Will I be one of them? I continue to watch
the "test" area. I move to the side,
first to the left, then to the right, to see if
it will allow the light to shine better on the
stick, help me see a second pink line. Nothing
there. I feel teary. It's been one minute.
I straighten myself up from bending over the
counter looking at the stick. I look at myself
in the mirror. I look tired. It's 5 am. I tossed
and turned all night. Wondering; am I? I feel
some nausea, have for the last 4 days. Aching
breasts. My face is broken out.
I take a deep breath and look at my watch again.
One and 1/2 minutes. I bend over the counter again.
This brings on a wave of nausea and I swallow
hard. It gives me a sense of hope. If it isn't
positive today, maybe it will be tomorrow, or
the next. I look at the "control" line
again to get my bearings as to where I should
look for the "test" line. It should
appear just about a 1/4 inch to the left. I glance
to the left. I see something, I think. I look
harder, blinking again, to clear my sleepy eyes.
I do see something. My heart beat quickens. Another
wave of nausea. I look at my watch, if it's past
three minutes maybe it's an evaporation line.
It's been exactly two minutes. I pick up the stick
knowing that since I have left it still for that
length of time I won't effect the test results
by moving it. I hold it closer to the light. Yes,
there is something there. The line is getting
darker now. I see TWO pink lines. I start to cry.
I am pregnant. I have a tiny baby in me, have
had for almost two weeks. I'm elated, joyous,
happy, thrilled, excited,..... complete. My thoughts
reel in my head. We'll have a baby in 9 months.
A little brother or sister for Joay, Keaton. Maybe
the long awaited for daughter, for Russ. Another
baby at my breast!
I hold the stick in my hand, tight, as if I'll
never put it down. It's my proof until I get a
belly. I'll show it to everybody I know, show
it to them as many times as I can before they
tell me to stop it. I'll frame it. I open up my
hand and look at the two pink lines again. The
"test" line is dark now, no need to
strain to see it. More tears. I look at my watch.
Five minutes have passed since I started the test.
What a difference five minutes can make in my
life, a long and torturous five minutes at that.
Now comes the incredibly long 2 - 3 hours of waiting
for the rest of world to wake up so I can share
the news.
-Karen Squires
BABY YOU'RE WORTH IT!
-by Jenny Silliman
Morning sickness, night time too.
Sleepy and tired the whole day through.
Oh thank You God! A baby!
Money's tight and clothes don't
fit,
More to sew and mend and knit .
Oh thank You God! A baby!
Baby stuff everywhere,
And I just sit here in my chair.
Oh thank You God! A baby!
Daddy declares "We're going
out to eat!"
Then ties my shoes. I can't reach my feet.
Oh thank You God! A baby!
Waiting and waiting, pains at last,
Only false labor and due date past,
Oh thank You God! A baby!
Out in public, huge and humble,
"Is this your first?"
"My seventh," I mumble.
Oh thank You God! A baby!
Strangers' advice, looks and sneers,
Taking comments, jokes and jeers,
Oh thank You God! A baby!
Six kids in tow, one on the way,
Out shopping my nerves begin to fray,
Oh thank You God! A baby!
Aches and pains and heavy with child,
Can't wait to put Baby down awhile.
Oh thank You God! A baby!
The pains begin. . .
Oh thank You God! A baby!
The babe is born, our sweet reward
What a blessed gift from the Lord.
Oh thank You God! A Baby!
Love in Jesus,
Jenny
Silliman
Blessed to be a stay-at-home wife to Cliff and
a mother and a homemaker for twenty years. Cliff
and Jenny have 7 blessings and one on the way!
Daniel 19, Valerie Joy 17, David 15, Mike 11,
Josh 9, Steve 4, Luke 2.
All the children have been born
at home and the Sillimans home school and home
church. Contact Jenny at 931 S 7th, Sequim, WA
98382. Read past issues of her free e-mail newsletter
here
and subscribe by sending a blank email here.
Her daughter Valerie Joy has published for 6 years
a pink quarterly magazine for girls of all ages:
"Joyful Heart." Write
for more information.
Reprinted from
Nursing Family Magazine.
The following is by Jennifer
Brotherton. For an index of her birth stories,
go here.
Madelynn Kaye
I will always remember...
the way you came into this world.
I will always...
the way I laid you on my belly and stroked your
back.
Your soft cries filled my head~
The way you conformed to my body.
Always~ I will remember feeding you.
The way you press against me,
closer and closer,
your sweet lips at my breast,
our breathing in sync,
your smell.
Oh, your wonderful smell.
I'll always remember the trust in your eyes,
you know me and I know you~ so deeply!
Your smile, your laughter.
This beautiful bond between us.
I'll never forget.
I'll always remember these moments~ with you.
Love forever, your mom
Feb. 21, 1998
Being Born is Important
Being born is important.
You who have stood at the bedposts and seen
a mother on her high harvest day,
the day of the most golden of harvest moons
for her.
You who have seen the new wet child dried behind
the ears,
swaddled in soft fresh garments,
pursing its lips and sending a groping mouth
toward nipples where white milk is ready.
You have seen this love's payday
of wild toileting and sweet agonizing-
You know being born is important.
You know that nothing was ever so important
to you.
You understand that the payday of love is so
old,
so involved, so traced with circles of the moon,
so cunning with the secrets of the salts of
the blood
It must be older than the moon, older than salt.
-Carl Sandburg
Birth Story
-By Barbara Kozlowski
(I'm drowning)
And the midwife holds me in her arms and says
Yes, it's hard isn't it . . you're doing so well
(And I am surfacing)
And she says,"you're doing it exactly right"
(I'm drowning)
And she says," you're taking such good care
of your baby"
(And I am surfacing)
And she says, "yes this is how it is, you'll
live, you're good and strong
(I'm drowning)
And she says good, good, that's good
(And I am surfacing)
And part of me says "fuck you, I am dying
here"
(I'm drowning)
And part of me says, " oh my god, I AM doing
this,aren't I?
(And I am surfacing)
And part of me says LEAVE ME ALONE, SAVE ME, HELP
ME
(I'm drowning)
And part of me says this is the most incredible
thing I've ever done
I can't believe I'm actually doing this yes, yes,
YES
(And I am surfacing)
And the baby comes in a long, sea salt waterfall
flood
ocean of sweat and tears and birth waters and
blood
And I take her slippery, warm, wide eyed, amazed
and knowing little self against my Earth Mother
created-and-moved-the-universe warm and billowy
belly and tell her she's wonderful and safe
And I follow her with a red and glorious afterbirth
And I think "I DID IT! I AM TOTALLY INCREDIBLE!
WE WANT SOME PRIZES AND NEWS COVERAGE IN HERE!
DID YOU SEE THAT? WAS THAT GREAT OR WHAT?!"
And the doctor writes:
32-year-old gravida 2, para 1 presents in active
labor. Normal spontaneous vaginal delivery of
a viable female LOA over intact perineum. Apgars
of 9 & 10. Uneventful delivery.
Supreme Sexuality
She lies on her back
legs spread wide apart
heavily breathing
faster, harder
caught between ecstasy and agony,
extreme pleasure and unknown pain.
Her moans grow in intensity
the waves rushing to bring her to ultimate crescendo.
Warm, aromatic fluids flow from between her
stretched lips
trickling down her thighs and onto the bed.
Pressure inside her builds as never before
warm, wet and slippery.
She is almost there
and releases one last earth shattering scream.
Over now, she opens her eyes
gazing in awe at the one she loves,
wet and exhausted and yearning to be held in
her arms.
She reaches out, embraces her newborn baby boy
and realizes
she is the embodiment of
supreme sexuality.
-copyright Chelle Goodfriend 1997
* * *
Violent Beginnings
Forced to her back
Stripped of her clothes
Vulnerable and helpless
She is at their mercy
Shut up
Don't make noise
Someone might hear you
She wants to move
get up, not that position
So they tie her down to the bed,
drug her to make her stop screaming
..Shut up you stupid bitch...
..You're just making it worse..
..Cooperate and it'll be over soon..
Overwhelmed, tears in her eyes
she gives in to her drugged stupor,
submitting to their demands
She sees the sharp steel object in his hand
knowing he is about to cut her
there
One last agonizing scream
then he says..Congratulations Mrs. Smith,
you've just given birth to a bouncing baby boy..
copyright Chelle Goodfriend 1997
Birth Instruments
A poem celebrating the beautiful music of natural
birth.
~ Caleb ~ Midwife Heather
Bennetts shares the story of her best friend's
birth in verse.
Birth Day For Baby E
As I awoke, the clock read six in the morning
I could feel your life in me, feel your pushing
up to stretch
I wondered, would you be born today?
Then I heard the pop, felt the gush
You answered my question, today would be your
birth day
In the quiet of our home, there would be no
rush
Daddy hasn't a bag to pack or carry,
He has only to hold us through the waves
We rock, sit, and breathe in rhythm
You are taking your own sweet time
And just when I think you've changed your mind,
And the last ten hours have been in vain,
I quietly beging to hum and push
Husband, midwives, doula, family, and friends
are at my side
You emerge wide-eyed, taking in the light
Your brothers and your sister move in to catch
a glimpse
We call you by name, take in your newborn scent
I put you to my breast, your newfound place
of comfort,
And quickly you calm again.
Welcome to your world my son, welcome to your
home!
-Amy D. Tolnay
Chant of the Pregnant Goddess
I am the mother of the moon
sister of the stars
child of the light in your eyes.
I am powerful.
The geometry of my shape shifts
from gently curved lines
to expanding circles:
earth, moon, sun.
I am powerful.
I am strong.
The tempo of my vibration quickens,
increasing from
butterfly wings, to floundering fish,
to beating drum,
erupting volcano,
the rhythm as old and constant as
the cycles of the sun
and the turn of the tides.
I am powerful.
I am strong.
I am beautiful.
I hold the hope of my ancestors
the knowledge of my time
the fate of my future.
I am powerful.
I am strong.
I am beautiful.
I am mother.
Copyright © Jana McCarthy, 1999
Amulet
My water never broke
eight births
Doctor and midwife stood
with sterile amnihook
caused a tear
and fluid came in a
warm rush
to pool beneath me.
Like Charmin,
the amniotic sac is tough
2-ply
Like me,
unwilling to give
to pressure.
Five hundred years ago
I would have been
valued
Proven breeder
bringer of boys
My babies born
out of the ordinary
face up
covered by that
shiny translucent membrane
The midwife would catch
her fingernail
under the chin
and peel it away
Sliding out,
the baby would cry
changing from dusky birth blue
to newborn pink
each squall
forcing a rosy flush
further into the limbs
The midwife would put the caul
into her bag
to rest among
comfrey, ginger, and blue cohosh
She'd tell everyone
of these lucky ones
born in the caul
how the hand of God
would touch them
all of their days.
Copyright © Jana McCarthy, 1999
Poems about Being a Mother
Poems
by Lisa Lynn Fuimaono-McDonald A mother
of two boys writes out her feelings about birth
and after. Poem added 10/16/03
I Cuddled My Baby Instead
© 2003 Heather McCoy
The power went out at noon just today
While I played my new DVD
I sat for a moment in utter dismay
And stared at the silenced TV
"No matter", I thought, "I’ll
do laundry instead"
But washers and dryers need power
"OK then, perhaps I’ll just bake some
bread"
Then stopped as I reached for the flour
I ran through the list of my favorite machines
They all used electricity
No vacuum, no oven, no dishwasher scene
No phone or hairdryer for me
No computer, stereo, radio too
No microwave or VCR
The digital clocks all flashed bright red "12
noon"
Was I glad that it wasn’t dark!
A sound caught my ear in the corner so soft
A whimper, a cough and a sigh
There laid my baby in her nice little loft
A thought formed itself in my mind
Although she was sleeping so soundly just then
I picked her up and held her close
I took in her smell and touched her soft skin
No longer did I feel morose
We bundled and went out to the winter sun
And watched as the people went by
I sat there so quiet with my little one
She let out a sweet gentle sigh
I thanked BC Hydro for slowing my pace
No longer was I filled with dread
‘Cause with no devices to cause me to race
I cuddled my baby instead
Wean Me Gently
I know I look so big to you, maybe I seem too
big for the needs I have.
But no matter how big we get, we still have needs
that are important to us.
I know that our relationship is growing and changing,
but I still need you.
I need your warmth and closeness, especially at
the end of the day when we snuggle up in bed.
Please don't get too busy for us to nurse.
I know that you think that I can be patient or
find something else do: a book, a glass of something,
but nothing can take your place when I need you.
Sometimes just cuddling with you, having you near
me is enough.
I guess I am growing and becoming independent,
but please be there.
This bond we have is strong and so important to
me, please don't break it abruptly.
Wean me gently, because I am your mother and my
heart is tender.
Copyright © by Carol Cardell
Baby
Love
You are a feast
For my senses
A delight
A delicacy
Wisps of hair
(Angel wings)
Brush against my cheek
I drink in the scent
At the nape of your neck
Greedily
Puffs of breath
Milky sweet
You breathe,
I breathe
Toes like little pebbles
Between my lips
As I nibble
Tiny mouth
Suckling eagerly at my breast
Warmth
Love
Filling you,
Padding your wrists and fingers
I wonder...
If I held my ear
To the tiny pink shell
Of yours,
Would I hear the ocean
Of my womb?
Copyright © Chris
Wieberdink
BabyLove
When the waves come,
I will welcome you,
The passion of deep waters
Singing you into the world,
Unfolding the cradle bones,
To set you free,
Womb wet.
The brightest of eyes,
The dampness of silk
In your mouth,
Your warm scent
Nesting into me,
And the tangle of small fingers
Tight
Under my skin.
I ache for you.
Copyright © Jes
McCullough
NURSING UNDER THE STARS
Under the moon
My little star nestles close
We become one
I gaze upon him as I drift into heaven
Such sweet bliss
I cradle him
We sway to the rythm of the earth
Time is at a stand still
We are forever bonded
It is a connection far beyond the physical realm
The morning dew glistens in the sunlight
We are two again, yet one in the same
Together we are great
Like the sun, stars and the moon
We are the universe
-© by Lisa Lynn Fuimaono-McDonald
Only One Childhood
-Author Unknown
I stopped to watch my little girl busy playing
in her room.
In one hand was a plastic phone;
in the other a toy broom.
I listened as she was speaking to her make believe
little friend
And I'll never forget the words she said,
even though it was pretend.
She said, "Suzie's in the corner cuz she's
not been very good.
She didn't listen to a word I said or do the things
she should."
In the corner I saw her baby doll all dressed
in lace and pink.
It was obvious she'd been put there to sit alone
and think.
My daughter continued her "conversation,"
as I sat down on the floor.
She said, "I'm all fed up, I just don't know
what to do with her anymore!
She whines whenever I have to work and wants to
play games, too.
She never lets me do the things that I just have
to do!
She tries to help me with the dishes, but her
arms just cannot reach...
And she doesn't know how to fold towels. I don't
have the time to teach.
I have a lot of work to do and a big house to
keep clean.
I don't have the time to sit and play- don't you
know what I mean?"
And that day I thought a lot about making some
changes in my life;
As I listened to her innocent words that cut me
like a knife.
I hadn't been paying enough attention to what
I hold most dear.
I'd been caught up in responsibilities that increased
throughout the year.
But now my attitude has changed, because, in
my heart, I realize...
I've seen the world in a different light through
my little darling's eyes.
So, let the cobwebs have the corners and the dustbunnies
rule the floor,
I'm not going to worry about keeping up with them
anymore.
I'm going to fill the house with memories of a
child and her mother...
For we are granted only one childhood, and we
will never get another.
For Noble, Just Before He Turns Two
No more rolls of chub,
Squeezed tight against my breast,
With your chubby legs folded
Under your luscious little booty.
No more chubby cheeks
And toothless grins while you
Take your fist few steps
And laugh at your sister’s antics.
Now you squat down in the grass
To watch the ants march by
Pulling my hand to see with you,
To see through your eyes.
Now you bring me bugs and rocks and flowers
And point out shapes in the clouds
As you sing Itsy Bitsy Spider
And laugh at your sister’s antics.
Still, though, you come to me and say,
"Ninnie, Mama, ninnie!"
And while you nurse, I smell your head,
Orange curls all sweaty from the summer sun.
You touch my face, and I inhale the baby scent
That is still there in the palm of your hand,
And I kiss your sweet little toes.
You pull away giggling,
As a lone drop of sweet whiteness
Escapes from the corner of your smile.
-Mandy
Mama to Timely Rain 4/7/98 and Noble Song 9/7/99
Mother Poem
Today I left some dishes dirty,
The bed got made around two-thirty;
The diapers soaked a little longer,
Their odor grew a little stronger,
The crumbs I spilled the day before
Were staring at me from the floor;
The fingerprints on the wall
I guess will still be there next fall;
The dirt streaks on the window panes
Will still be there next time it rains.
"For shame, oh lazy one," you say,
"And just what did you do today?"
I nursed a baby till she slept;
I held a toddler while she wept.
I played a game of hide-and-seek.
I squeezed a toy so it would squeak;
I pulled a sled, I sang a song.
I taught a child what's right and wrong.
What did I do the whole day through?
Not much that shows, I guess it's true.
Unless you think that what I've done
Might be important to someone
With bright blue eyes and soft blonde hair,
If that is true, I've done my share.
-Katherine Mai
Before I Was A Mom...
I made and ate hot meals.
I had unstained clothing.
I had quiet conversations on the phone.
Before I was a Mom,
I slept as late as I wanted and never worried
about how late I got into bed.
I brushed my hair and teeth everyday.
Before I was a Mom,
I cleaned my house each day.
I never tripped over toys or forgot words to
lullabies.
Before I was a Mom,
I didn't worry whether or not my plants were
poisonous and I never thought about immunizations.
Before I was a Mom,
I had never been puked on, pooped on, spit on,
chewed on, peed on or even pinched by tiny fingers.
Before I was a Mom,
I had complete control of my mind, my thoughts,
my body and I slept all night.
Before I was a Mom,
I never held down a screaming child so that
doctors could do test or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours at night watching
a baby sleep.
Before I was a Mom,
I never held a sleeping baby just because I
didn't want to put it down.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces
when I couldn't stop the hurt.
I never knew that something so small could affect
my life so much.
I never knew that I could love being a Mom.
Before I was a Mom,
I didn't have the feeling of having my heart
outside my body.
I didn't know how special it could feel to feed
a hungry child.
I didn't know that bond between a Mother and
her child.
I didn't know that something so small could
make me feel so important.
Before I was a Mom,
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night
to make sure all was Ok.
I had never known the warmth, the joy, the
love, the heartache or the satisfaction of being
a Mom
I didn't know that I was capable of feeling
so much......
Before I was A Mom.
-author unknown
All Through the Night
MIDNIGHT
Your son is born.
Pushed forth in joyful triumph.
He comes wet and wriggling into your eager arms.
First he licks, but slowly you teach him to
nurse.
A little later, you laugh at his quizzical look
when
he tastes the first rush of milk.
So you keep him next to you all the warm, tender
night.
Drinking and growing, drinking and growing,
With no thought of time.
ONE A.M.
Your one-year-old is sleeping on your arm.
No longer tiny, but chubby-legged and strong.
His curly head so heavy on your aching arm--
Though Lord knows it should be strong enough
after
carrying him all day.
Let's try to move it -- oh, oh, no good.
"Here it is."
You might as well forget the arm and try to
doze off again.
TWO A.M.
Can anything beat a two-year-old cutting his
molars
in the middle of the night?
You feel as if he's going to tear you to bits.
Nothing seems to work anymore.
You've given and given until there's nothing
left.
Will this long night ever end?
THREE A.M.
Your three-year-old is nursing quietly.
You might as well try it --
it usually works. O.K.?"
Muttering, "O.K.," he rolls over and
begins to snore.
Gratefully you snuggle down under the covers
between
two warm bodies.
FOUR A.M.
Your long-legged four-year-old is tossing and
moaning.
Mommy!"
A nightmare again.
Ah, well.
"Here."
All is quiet.
FIVE A.M.
The sound of your five-year-old giggling softly
intrudes on your sleep.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, I was just thinking about when I dranked
your milk."
Anyway, what's so funny about that?
"I just feel happy to think about it. .
. . .
Mommy?"
Just this once.
SIX A.M.
Your six-year-old is looking down at you in
the
half-light of dawn.
"Can I come in with you?"
Sure, honey.
SEVEN A.M.
You are alone in the big bed.
Your seven-year-old is watching his dad shave.
You realize with a start that nobody asked for
anything all night long.
Not even a drink of water.
You sigh and wonder why the years go by as fast
as hours.
And in your heart you're glad you had those
times together.
-Kathy Eickmann
Sleep Close To Me
Fold of my flesh
I carried in my womb,
tender trembling flesh
sleep close to me!
The partridge sleeps in the wheat
listening to its heartbeat.
Let not my breath disturb you
sleep close to me!
Little tender grass
afraid to live,
don't move from my arms;
sleep close to me!
I have lost everything,
and tremble until I sleep.
Don't move from my breast;
sleep close to me!
-Gabriela Mistral, 1889-1957, Chile
Poems about Being a Woman
The
Woman In You
Strong and powerful,
Radiant, vibrant and wise,
Life-giving, life-perceiving,
Eternal flame,
Life elixir…
I'm the woman in you!
Let me fill your shell,
I will serve you well!
Let me fill your senses
And break down fences!
Loving and tender,
Gentle, warm and soft,
All-embracing, nurturing,
Hearth of hearts,
Primal mother…
I'm the woman in you!
Let me fill your shell,
I will serve you well!
Let me fill your senses
And break down fences!
Beautiful and deep,
Desirable, earthy and intense,
Breathtaking, tantalising,
Sexual being,
Pulse of life…
I'm the woman in you!
Let me fill your shell,
I will serve you well!
Let me fill your senses
And break down fences!
Creative and receptive,
Instinctive, sensitive, in tune,
All-seeing, feeling,
Spring of harmonies,
Life force…
I'm the woman in you!
Let me fill your shell,
I will serve you well!
Let me fill your senses
And break down fences!
No need to fear!
Do not hide!
I'll brush away your tear
And restore your sight!
I am your soul,
I'll make you whole…
I'm the woman in you!
Let me fill your shell,
I will serve you well!
Let me fill your senses
And break down your fences…
A celebration of womanhood, Written by Vanessa
O'Donovan
Wild
West Coast Sisters A poem written in honor
of the women of the Canadian West who are attempting
to pioneer a free, spirited homebirth movement.
Poems about 9/11/01
Who
I Am..... What I Believe A poem by a woman
who radiates beauty and love. It includes her
pain at seeing other women's pain, and her dreams
of glory, power and intactness for all women.
We Are Woman
We are Woman...
Not women, but WOMAN, all of us together make
up the whole.
Woman cries when a one of herself is beaten
and abused.
Woman screams with herself as she is violated
by rape.
Woman strains together in birth to enlarge
the World that is herself.
Woman rejoices with with each new Life and nurses
it at her breast.
Woman stands together as one of itself learns
to walk.
Woman dries the tears of her World.
Woman cradles life as it becomes death.
Woman is a mother, daughter, sister, and friend...
And each of Woman is "I."
-Helaina Burton
Phenomenal Woman
-by Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's
size,
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say
It's in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman,
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room,
Just as cool as I please,
And to a man
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
They swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth.
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman, Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much,
But they can't touch,
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman,
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Duties of My Heart
by Barbara Barg. I read this poem and I feel a
birth in my senses... it is so beautiful.
Not Shot Before Her Time
("Before shot"- you know- like the
photos in magazines?- pictures taken "before
and after" the diet milkshakes or pills??)
I am the before shot-
and so I shall remain!
struggling to fit into narrow minds and girth
would be far too much a pain.
I am the before shot-
feeling chubby and alert.
You call my butt too fat-
I just call it pert.
I am the before shot-
nor will there ever be an after.
This is the shape I’ve been blessed with-
of my own body I’m the master.
I am the before shot-
I’m proud to be the before shot-
I am beautiful because I’m the before shot-
I’m vivacious because I’m the before
shot-
I am the before shot.
I will not pose and preen for you.
Thrust out my hips, puff up my chest
I will never do.
I am the before shot-
millions of us are the before shots-
and anyone who wants to screw us with their diet
aid crap
should really just be shot!
-anonymous. Note from site editor LLM:
I do not condone gun violence, but realize this
poem can help women accept who and what they are.
Women of the Earth take back your Earth shapes!
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