Представлена подборка сочинений о Маме на английском языке с переводом на русский язык.
мать, мама, матушка, мамаша, начало, источник, быть матерью, родить, лелеять, охранять
существительное ↓
- мать; мама; матушка
the mother of six [of a family] — мать шестерых детей [семейства] 
expectant mother — женщина, готовящаяся стать матерью
mother love — материнская любовь
mother’s milk — материнское молоко
- мать, матушка (вежливое обращение)
- мать, матушка (церк. звание)
mother Theresa — мать Тереза
mother Superior — мать-настоятельница
- разг. матушка (об уважаемой простой женщине)
- начало, источник
mother of all vices — источник /мать/ всех пороков
- хим. маточный раствор
every mother’s son (of you, of them) — все (вы, они) без исключения, все до одного
mother’s help — домашняя работница; няня; прислуга за всё
Mother of Presidents, Mother of States — амер. шутл. штат Виргиния
necessity is the mother of invention — посл. ≅ голь на выдумки хитра
глагол ↓
- относиться по-матерински; охранять, лелеять
she always mothers her lodgers — она всегда балует своих жильцов
- усыновлять; брать на воспитание
to mother another’s child — признать себя матерью чужого ребёнка
- вскармливать (обыкн. mother upon)
a young wolf was mothered upon a bitch — волчонок был вскормлен собакой
- быть матерью, родить
to mother six children — родить шестерых детей
- порождать, вызывать к жизни
to mother revolt — породить /вызвать/ восстание /мятеж/
- признавать себя матерью
to mother another’s child — признать себя матерью чужого ребёнка
- (on, upon) приписывать материнство
- признавать себя автором
- (on, upon) приписывать авторство
this book [joke] was mothered (up)on her — эту книгу [шутку] приписывали ей
Мои примеры
Словосочетания
a mother bear and her cubs — медведица и её медвежата
a mother hen and her chicks — наседка и её цыплята
a mother hen with her chicks — мать-наседка со своими цыплятами
a young mother’s crowded days — насыщенная жизнь молодой матери
the living image of her mother — живой образ её матери
the loss of his mother — смерть матери
foster mother — приёмная мать
unwed mother, single mother — мать-одиночка
working mother — работающая мать
suckling mother — кормящая мать
mother-daughter board connector — соединитель «плата-плата»; соединитель «плата плата»
mother-of-eels — бельдюга
Примеры с переводом
Her mother is American.
Её мать — американка.
He misses his mother.
Он скучает по своей матери.
Mary pictures her mother.
Мэри — вылитая мать.
Goodnight, Mother.
Спокойной ночи, мама.
Mother sends her love.
Мама передаёт привет.
She is an unfit mother.
Она никудышная мать.
His mother’s very sick.
Его мать очень больна.
ещё 23 примера свернуть
Примеры, ожидающие перевода
…the cloying sentiments of so many Mother’s Day cards… 
My mother hardly ever went to the bother of (=the effort of) making cakes.
…immured by a controlling, possessive mother, the young woman had no outside social life…
Для того чтобы добавить вариант перевода, кликните по иконке ☰, напротив примера.
Возможные однокоренные слова
moth — моль, мотылек, ночная бабочка
motherhood — материнство
mothering — материнская забота, материнская ласка
motherless — лишенный матери
motherly — материнский, по-матерински
motherlike — материнский, свойственный матери, как мать, матерински,
Формы слова
verb
I/you/we/they: mother
he/she/it: mothers
ing ф. (present participle): mothering
2-я ф. (past tense): mothered
3-я ф. (past participle): mothered
noun
ед. ч.(singular): mother
мн. ч.(plural): mothers
Essay on my mother: – Mother is the most suitable word in this world. Who doesn’t love his/her mother? This entire post will deal with different topics related to the word ‘mother’. You will get some essays on my mother.
Besides those “My Mother” essays, you will get some articles on my mother along with a paragraph on my mother and of course an idea on how to prepare a speech on my mother as well.
So without any DELAY
Let’s navigate to my mother essay.
50 words Essay on My Mother in English
(My Mother Essay for Class 1,2,3,4)
The most important person in my life is my mother. By nature, she is very hard-working and caring as well. She takes care of each and every member of our family. She gets up early at dawn and prepares food for us.
My day starts with my mother. Early in the morning, she gets me up from the bed. She makes me ready for school, and cooks delicious food for us. My mother also helps me in doing my homework. She is the best teacher for me. I love my mother so much and hope she lives very long.
100 words Essay on My Mother in English
(My Mother Essay for Class 5)
The most influential person for me in my life is my mother. I have a very strong admiration and respect for my mother.
My mother is the first teacher of my life. She takes every care for me and sacrifices a lot for me. She is very dedicated to her work and her hardworking nature always enrapture me a lot.
My mother gets up at dawn and her daily routine starts before we get up from our bed. My mother can be called the manager of our family. She manages each and everything in our family.
My mother cook’s delicious foods for us take care of us, go shopping, prays for us and does lots more for our family. My mother also teaches me and my brother/sister. She helps us in doing our homework. My mother is the backbone of my family.
150 words Essay on My Mother in English
(My Mother Essay for Class 6)
Mother is the most suitable word that I have learned so far. My mother is the most influential person for me in my life. She is not only hardworking but also very dedicated to her work. Early in the morning, she gets up before the sun rises and starts her daily activities.
My mother is a very beautiful and kind-hearted lady who manages everything at our home. I have special respect and admiration for my mother as she is my first teacher who not only taught the chapters from my books but also shows me the right path in life. She cooks food for us, takes proper care of each member of the family, goes for shopping, etc.
Though she remains busy all the time, she spares time for me and play with me, help me do my homework and guide me out in all activities. My mother supports me in my every activity. I love my mother and pray to God for her long life.
200 words Essay on My Mother in English
(My Mother Essay for Class 7)
Mother can’t be described in words. In my life, my mother is the person who occupies my heart the most. She always plays a vital role in shaping my life. My mother is a beautiful lady who takes care of me in every walk of my life.
Her busy schedule starts before the sun rises. She not only prepares food for us but also helps me with all my daily work. Whenever I find any difficulty in my studies my mother plays the role of teacher and solve my problem, when I get bored my mother plays the role of a friend and plays with me.
My mother plays a different role in our family. She spends a sleepless night when any member of our family falls sick and takes proper care of us. She can sacrifice with a smiling face for the benefit of the family.
My mother is very hardworking in nature. She works all day from morning to night. She guides me in every walk of my life. At a tender age, it was not easy to decide for me what was good or what was bad. But my mother is always with me to show me the right path of life.
250 words Essay on My Mother in English
(My Mother Essay for Class 
My mother is the all in all for me. I could see this beautiful world only because of her. She has brought me up with utmost care, love and affection. According to me, the mother is the most trustworthy friend for a person.
My mother is my best friend. I can share my good moments with her. During my bad times, I always find my mother with me. She supports me during those bad times. I have a strong admiration for my mother.
My mother is very hardworking and dedicated to her work. I have learned from her that hard work brings success. She does her work all day with a smiling face. She not only prepares delicious food for us but also she doesn’t forget to take care of us.
She is the decision-maker of our family. My father also seeks advice from my mother as she is excellent at making good decisions. We have four members in our family, me, my mother-father, and my younger sister.
My mother takes proper care of us equally. She also teaches me the moral value of life. Sometimes when I am stuck while doing my homework, my mother plays the role of my teacher and helps me in finishing my homework. She remains busy all the time.
Besides, my mother is a very kind-hearted lady. She always put her umbrella of love above our heads. I know I can’t find such a genuine and mighty love in this world besides my mother’s love.
Every child loves his/her mother. But the value of a mother can be felt by the one who doesn’t have anyone near to him/her to call ‘mother’. In my life, I want to see my mother’s smiling face in every walk of my life.
300 words Essay on My Mother in English
(My Mother Essay for Class 9)
Mother is the first word of a child. As for me, my mother is the most precious gift of God for me. It is a very challenging task for me to describe her in words. For every child, the mother is the most caring and loving person they have ever met in life.
My mother also possesses all those qualities that a mother has. We have 6 members in our family; my father-mother, my grandparents and my younger sister and me. But my mother is the only member for whom we can call our house “A Home”.
My mother is an early riser. She gets up at dawn and starts her schedule. She takes proper care of us and feeds us different delicious food. My mother knows all the likes and dislikes of each and every member of our family.
She even remains alert and checks whether my grandparents have had their medicines on time or not. My grandfather calls my mother ‘the manager of the family’ as she can manage each and everything in the family.
I have grown up with the moral teachings of my mother. She guides me in every walk of my life. She understands my feelings and support me in my bad times and inspires me in my good moments.
My mother teaches me to be a disciplined, punctual and trustworthy person. My mother is a tree for our family who provides shade to us. Though she has to manage lots of work she remains calm and cool all the time.
She doesn’t lose her temper and patience even in difficult situations. There is a special bond of love between my mother and me and I always pray to God to keep my mother fit and healthy for forever.
450 words Essay on My Mother in English
(My Mother Essay for Class 10)
Famous poet George Eliot quotes
Life began with waking up
And loving my mother’s face
YES, we all start our day with our mother’s smiling face. My day started when my mother gets me up early in the morning. For me, my mom is the best example of love and kindness in this universe. She knows how to take care of us.
From the very tender age, I became a fan of her as I like my mom’s hardworking and dedicated nature. My mom sacrificed a lot in order to shape my life. She has brought me up with utmost love and care.
She could understand me even when I couldn’t utter a word. Mother is another name of true love. A mother loves his child selflessly and doesn’t expect or demand anything in return. My mother whom I call mom turns our house into a home.
My mother is the busiest person at our home. She gets up much before the sun rises and start to perform her duty. She cooks food for us, takes care of us, goes shopping and even plans our future too.
In our family, my mother plans how to spend and how to save for the future. My mom was my first teacher. She also plays a vital role in shaping my moral character. She doesn’t even forget to take care of our health.
Whenever any one of our family members falls sick, my mother spends a sleepless night and sits beside him/her and take care of him/her for the whole night. My mom never tires of her responsibility. My father also depends on her whenever he finds any difficulty in taking any serious decision.
The word mother is full of emotion and love. The value of this sweet word is truly felt by those children who don’t have anyone to call ‘mother’. So the one who has his/her mother beside them should feel proud.
But in today’s world, some wicked children consider their mother a burden when she gets old. The person who spends all her life for their children become a burden for their child at the last moment of her life.
Some selfish child even doesn’t bother to send his/her mom to old age home. This is really a shame and unfortunate incident as well. The government should keep an eye to those incidents and should take those shameless children in judicial custody.
I want to stand with my mother like a shadow all the time. I know today I am here only because of her. So I want to serve my mother for the rest of my life. I also want to build my carrier so that my mom feels proud of me.
Find Essay on Uses and Abuses of Mobile Phones here
Paragraph on My Mother in English
Mother is not a word, it is an emotion. My mother is my role model and she is the best mother in the world. Everyone thinks so because there is nothing amazing in this world like a mother’s love for her children.
A person who enjoys mother’s love considers himself as one of the luckiest people in the world. The love of a mother can never be expressed in words or activities; rather it can be felt in deep of our heart.
In a Family the Leadership Quality is maintained by Mother as She knows exactly when to push and when to Let go.
My Mother is my inspiration like everyone else. She is the woman whom I admire most and she has influenced me a lot throughout my lives.
In terms of love and care, nobody can take the place of a mother. As a child, our initial Schooling is said to be started in our home in the guidance of our mother. We can call our mother as our First Teacher as well as our first best friend.
My mother wakes up very early in the morning. After preparing and serving breakfast for all of us, she used to drop us to school. Again in the evening, she came to pick us up from School, help us in doing our assignments, and prepare dinner.
She woke up to prepare dinner for us in her sickness also. In addition to her day to day household works; My Mother is the one who spends her sleepless nights if any family members feel sick. She is always very concerned about our health, education, character, happiness etc.
She becomes happy in our happiness and feels sad in our sadness. Moreover, she guides us to do always the right things in life and choose the right path. A Mother is like NATURE who always tries to give us as much as possible and never take back anything in return. May 13th is declared as the “Mothers Day” to pay thankfulness to the mothers.
(N.B. – This essay on my mother is crafted in order to give an idea to the students how to write an essay on my mother. Students can add more points to this my mother essay depending on the word limit. If you need expert help and want to pay someone to write your essays on this topic, you can get in touch with professional writers on WriteMyPaperHub service.)
Final Words: – So finally we have reached the concluding part of this post ‘my mother essay’. As we have mentioned earlier in this post we have crafted the essay on my mother only to give an idea to the students.
After navigating through these essays they will know how to write an essay on my mother. Moreover, these essays on my mother are composed in such a way that a student can easily write a paragraph on my mother or an article on the subject.
In order to deliver a speech on my mother, you can pick any one of the above essays and prepare my mother speech as well.
Mother poems full of gratitude and admiration. Poems for mom say what you’ve always wanted to tell her. Short mother poems, mother daughter poems, more.
Super Mom
Mom, you’re a wonderful mother,
So gentle, yet so strong.
The many ways you show you care
Always make me feel I belong.
You’re patient when I’m foolish;
You give guidance when I ask;
It seems you can do most anything;
You’re the master of every task.
You’re a dependable source of comfort;
You’re my cushion when I fall.
You help in times of trouble;
You support me whenever I call.
I love you more than you know;
You have my total respect.
If I had my choice of mothers,
You’d be the one I’d select!
By Joanna Fuchs
Good mother poems often ask how Mom can love so much and do so much. This is a poem for mom that gives her the credit she is due.
Mystery Mom
Mom, your love is a mystery:
How can you do it all?
You’re always there with the perfect fix
For my problems, big and small.
Your love protects me day after day,
So I’m fearless, safe and sound.
I feel that I can do anything
Whenever you’re around.
Mom, your love is a mystery,
I haven’t got a clue
Why you love me all time,
But I’m very glad you do!
By Joanna Fuchs
Poems for moms are often built on memories of mom’s tender care in our youth. Mother poems also describe how mother enriched our lives, as this mom poem does. Most poems for mother are rhyming poems, but this one is in free verse.
Guiding Light Mom
Mom, from the time I was really young,
I realized I had someone…you,
who always cared,
who always protected me,
who was always there for me no matter what.
You taught me right from wrong,
and pushed me to do the right thing,
even when it was hard to do.
You took care of me when I was sick,
and your love helped make me well.
You had rules,
and I learned that when I obeyed them,
my life was simpler, better, richer.
You were and are
the guiding light of my life.
My heart is filled with love for you,
my teacher, my friend, my mother.
By Karl and Joanna Fuchs
To view ALL our poem pages, see our SITE MAP
More Mother Poems
Mom poems can express what mother means to her offspring. mother poem is perfect as a card poem.
What «Mother» Means
«Mother» is such a simple word,
But to me there’s meaning seldom heard.
For everything I am today,
My mother’s love showed me the way.
I’ll love my mother all my days,
For enriching my life in so many ways.
She set me straight and then set me free,
And that’s what the word «mother» means to me.
Thanks for being a wonderful mother, Mom!
By Karl Fuchs
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This poem for mother lets mom know what a huge influence she has been in making you the person you are. Affectionate messages for mothers can mean a lot.
Best and Wisest Mom
Mom, I wish I had words to tell
How much you mean to me.
I am the person I am today,
Because you let me be.
Your unconditional love
Made me happy, strong, secure.
Your teaching and example
Made me confident, mature.
In all the world, there is no mother
Better than my own.
You’re the best and wisest person, Mom
I have ever known.
By Joanna Fuchs
Poems for mothers sometimes talk about what life would have been like without mom. Mother poems often describe the essential contributions a mother makes to her children’s lives. It’s a mom poem that she will treasure. Use it as a greeting card poem.
Without You
Mom, without you, there would be no me.
Your love, your attention, your guidance,
have made me who I am.
Without you, I would be lost,
wandering aimlessly,
without direction or purpose.
You showed me the way
to serve, to accomplish, to persevere.
Without you, there would be an empty space
I could never fill, no matter how I tried.
Instead, because of you,
I have joy, contentment, satisfaction and peace.
Thank you, mom.
I have always loved you
and I always will.
By Joanna Fuchs
Mother poems often talk about feelings
Good Mother
Everyone has a mother.
Some are good, some bad.
Having you as a mother
Makes me peaceful, secure and glad.
I thank the dear Lord you’re my mother.
You give everything I need.
In my life, I look to you, Mom,
To follow your every lead.
By Joanna Fuchs
Poems for mothers are sometimes rhyming poems and sometimes free verse poems. This mother poem in free verse expresses gratitude for mom’s unselfishness and giving nature.
My Miracle Mother
Mom, I look at you
and see a walking miracle.
Your unfailing love without limit,
your ability to soothe my every hurt,
the way you are on duty, unselfishly,
every hour, every day,
makes me so grateful
that I am yours, and you are mine.
With open arms and open heart,
with enduring patience and inner strength,
you gave so much for me,
sometimes at your expense.
You are my teacher,
my comforter, my encourager,
appreciating all, forgiving all.
Sometimes I took you for granted, Mom,
but I don’t now, and I never will again.
I know that everything I am today
relates to you and your loving care.
I gaze in wonder
as I watch you being you—
my miracle, my mother.
By Joanna Fuchs
Mother poems can celebrate a
mother who believes in being a parent, rather than just a friend, as this poem
for mother does.
Wise Mother
You didn’t talk a lot,
Mom;
“I love you” was pretty
rare,
But when I needed
mothering,
You were always there.
I could always count on
you, Mom
To do what’s good and
right.
I’d see your wisdom and
the truth,
So we’d rarely have to
fight.
You were strong enough,
yet gentle enough
To be the perfect mother;
If I could search the
whole wide world,
I wouldn’t pick any
other.
By Joanna Fuchs
More Mom Poems
Mother poems often show appreciation to mom. This poem for mom thanks her for all she’s done for you. Poems for mothers could even be framed for a gift.
You Let Me Know You Love Me
You let me know you love me
In so many different ways.
You make me feel important
With encouragement and praise.
You’re always there when I need you
To comfort and to care.
I know I’m in your thoughts;
Your love follows me everywhere.
Thank you for all you’ve done
And given so generously.
I love you, my wonderful mother;
You’re a heaven-sent blessing to me.
By Joanna Fuchs
Poems for mom sometimes reveal something about the sender. Sounds like this child is a real handful, and knows it.
Your Love Is A Gift
Mom, your love is a gift to me.
No matter what I do,
Whatever challenge I inflict,
You always see me through.
You’re strong and steady as the earth,
Bringing peace amid the storm,
Tethering me to stability,
Your love keeps me safe and warm.
Without you, mom, I’d fly away
From all that’s right and good.
“Could you help me, Mom?” I often ask.
“Yes,” you say; “I could.”
Your love is a gift, my marvelous mom.
You’re my link to sanity.
I often wish I were more like you,
And maybe, someday I’ll be.
By Joanna Fuchs
Poems for mothers can tell of what she gave to you when you needed it, as this mother poem does.
I Can Count On You
Mom, whenever I feel weak,
I can count on you.
Your deep strength seems endless.
You let me draw on it,
you freely give it,
and I recover.
Mom whenever I stray from the path,
I can count on you.
You’re here for me.
You help me find my way back
to what’s right
and honest and worthwhile.
Mom whenever I get
too wrapped up in me, me, me,
I can count on you.
You quickly bring me back to earth,
reminding me of the importance
of love and service to others.
Everyone should have
a role model like you, Mom.
I love you,
and I want you to know:
you can count on me.
By Joanna Fuchs
More Poems For Mom
Mother poems can specify what kids learned from Mom. This poem for mother is a perfect mom poem.
I Learned From You
I learned about love from you,
Watching your caring ways.
I learned about joy from you
In fun-filled yesterdays.
From you I learned forgiving
Of faults both big and small.
I learned what I know about living
From you, as you gave life your all.
The example you set is still with me
I’d never want any other.
I’m thankful for all that you taught me,
And I’m blessed to call you «Mother.»
By Joanna Fuchs
Mother poems acknowledge Mom’s good qualities. This mom poem does that. Among my poems for mothers, I think this is one of my best poems for mom. It’s a poem for mom that will touch her heart, a thank you poem for mom.
Everything Mom
How did you find the energy, Mom,
To do all the things you did,
To be teacher, nurse and counselor
To me, when I was a kid.
How did you do it all, Mom,
Be a chauffeur, cook and friend,
Yet find time to be a playmate,
I just can’t comprehend.
I see now it was love, Mom,
That made you come whenever I’d call,
Your inexhaustible love, Mom,
And I thank you for it all.
By Joanna Fuchs
Full of Love for Mom
From the time I was really young,
I knew you were there for me.
You showed me right from wrong
and taught me to do right,
even when it was hard.
When I was sick, you took care of me,
letting me know I would be okay.
You are my guiding light, Mom,
my rock, my strong foundation.
I respect and admire you.
My heart is full of love for you.
I’m so glad you’re my mother!
By Joanna Fuchs
Mom poems often zero in on the qualities that are most important to the child, as this poem for mother does.
You Forgave Me
You forgave me for things I did’t do;
You forgave me for bad things I did.
You loved me, no matter what, dear Mom.
I’m so happy to be your kid.
You forgive me all the time, dear Mom,
Then you guide me to a better way.
I’m blessed with your unconditional love;
I appreciate you every day.
By Joanna Fuchs
Most of the mother poems here are rhyming poems, but there are some in free verse. This mother poem is a nonrhyming poem.
A Thousand Thanks
Mother’s Day brings to mind
The thousands of things you did for me
that helped make me happier,
stronger and wiser,
because I had you as a role model.
I’m grateful for all the times
you healed my hurts
and calmed my fears,
so that I could face the world
feeling safe and secure.
I’m thankful for all you showed me
about how to love and give—
lessons that now bring
so many blessings to me
each and every day.
Your sacrifices and unselfishness
did not go unnoticed, Mom.
I admire you, I respect you,
I love you.
And I’m so glad you’re my mother!
Happy Mother’s Day!
By Joanna Fuchs
Is it mom’s birthday? Or maybe you just want to show your appreciation? After you give a poem for mother, a hanging pot of gorgeous petunias would brighten her day.
More Poems For Mothers
Mother poems can tell mom what’s special about her and rhyming poems do it best. This poem for mother recognizes the uniqueness of every mother.
Nobody’s Like You, Mom
Nobody’s quite like you, Mom.
You’re special in every way.
You cheer me up, you fill my cup
With tenderness, come what may.
Nobody loves me like you, Mom.
No matter what I do,
Good or bad, happy or sad,
You support me; You always come through.
Nobody’s equal to you, Mom.
With you in my life, I’m blessed.
I love you so, and I want you to know
I think you’re the very best!
By Joanna Fuchs
Messages for Mom talk about what makes moms special. As this mother poem says, we can always count on their love.
Counting on Your Love
Mom, you gave me life
and made sure I was safe and happy.
You retrieved, reclaimed and restored me
when I strayed or was lost.
Being able to count on your love
gives me peace and security.
I can’t tell you enough,
give you enough, do enough
to show you how much you mean to me.
Happy Mother’s Day
to the best mom in the world!
By Joanna Fuchs
When you are done with this page,
click here to see a full page
of Mothers Day poems.
Also see our Mother Birthday Poems.
Short Mother Poems
A lot of people are searching for «a poem for my mom,» so I wrote this one. It’s also a nice, short mother poem, easy to fit in a card.
A Poem For My Mom
I want to write a poem for my mom
She’s terrific in every way.
No matter if I’m up or down,
She always knows what to say.
So here’s to you, mom, and all you’ve done
To fill my life with pleasure.
Every memory of time with you
Is one I’ll always treasure.
By Joanna Fuchs
Mother poems should let mom know she’s special. This message for mom, a rhyming poem, does that. It also says «I love you,» so it’s a mom poem she’ll treasure
Extra Special Mom
Mom, you’ve always been the best
A better mom than all the rest.
I’m thankful for all the things you do
I’m glad my mom is extra special you!
On Mother’s Day, I want you to know
You’re the greatest mom, and I love you so.
There’s one more thing I want to say:
I wish you Happy Mother’s Day!
By Joanna Fuchs
Daughter to Mom Poems
Mother poems don’t always have to be from children. This daughter to mom poem is from the viewpoint of an adult. Mother poems from daughter celebrate that unique bond between female parent and child. This mother poem is a gift in itself!
A Sonnet for My Incomparable Mother
I often contemplate my childhood, Mom.
I am a mother now, and so I know
Hard work is mixed together with the fun;
You learned that when you raised me long ago.
I think of all the things you gave to me:
Sacrifice, devotion, love and tears,
Your heart, your mind, your energy and soul—
All these you spent on me throughout the years.
You loved me with a never-failing love
You gave me strength and sweet security,
And then you did the hardest thing of all:
You let me separate and set me free.
Every day, I try my best to be
A mother like the mom you were to me.
By Joanna Fuchs
Here’s another daughter to mom poem, in free verse, from an adult daughter who is also a mom and finding motherhood very challenging.
Rock me to sleep
Rock me to sleep, Mom.
My life as a mom is full of joy,
but it gets more complicated
chaotic, harder every day,
full of stress and fatigue.
I am often nostalgic
for childhood days
you made so happy,
simple and safe.
I daydream about you, Mom
filling our lives
with fun, contentment and peace.
I need that so much now.
I need to slow down, relax, and rest.
Rock me to sleep, Mom.
By Joanna Fuchs
Is mom the outdoor type? Give her a poem for mother, then take her to a relaxing, peaceful woodland retreat, like this one.
Mother Daughter Poems
Among poems for mom, mother to daughter poems are very popular. Mother daughter poems can strengthen that special bond.
Daughter of My Heart
You turned out even better
Than I often dreamed you’d be;
You’re more than I had hoped for;
You’re a sweet reward to me.
You grew up to be a mother
Full of wisdom, warmth and love,
A good and fine role model,
A blessing from above.
I couldn’t be any prouder
Than I am today of you;
You’re my daughter and my friend,
And a wonderful person, too.
You have my love forever;
I adored you from the start;
It’s a privilege to be your mother,
Dear daughter of my heart.
By Joanna Fuchs
Mother to daughter poems can contain more sentiment than a son poem from Mom, so this mother daughter poem is sweet and heartfelt. It’s a rhyming poem.
My Daughter
My wonderful daughter, delight of my heart,
I hope that you know you’re both lovely and smart.
I cherish you dearly for the person you are,
You have passion and caring that will carry you far.
Wherever you go you’ll be watched by my love,
And we’ll always be close like a hand in a glove.
May the years treat you kindly, may laughter hold sway,
And I’m here for you always if your blue skies turn gray.
By Karl Fuchs
Son Poem from Mom
Son poems should provide support and encouragement, as this son poem from Mom (a rhyming poem) does.
My Son
My son, you’re a remarkable person to me;
Your good qualities make me feel proud.
I don’t give you compliments often enough,
But I really should shout them out loud.
You’re an intelligent, capable, likeable guy;
I often admire what you do.
You’ve got a good heart; you help and you care;
To your family and friends you are true.
You’re responsible, trustworthy, faithful and kind;
You work hard to do all you can.
My heart fills with joy when I think to myself
That I raised such a wonderful man.
By Joanna and Karl Fuchs
Funny Mom Poem
People who write funny mom poems have plenty of material! Someone who has never been a mother can’t possibly understand all mom has to handle, as this funny mother poem describes. Funny poems for mom are almost always rhyming poems. Here are thoughts from a harried mom, who is beginning to think some time in a minimum-security, white collar crime prison is looking pretty good.
I Want To Be Locked Up
I want to be locked up
Away from everything,
Free from all the craziness
A mother’s day can bring.
No planning, shopping, cooking
Three healthy meals a day,
Served up with love to finicky kids
Who throw most of it away.
No constant interruptions,
Dirty laundry on the floor,
Driving everyone every place,
Sibling rivalry (It’s war!)
No one asking me to do things,
Getting mad if I forget,
Me giving up my very self—
I’m the family marionette.
Prison sometimes looks appealing
(Or maybe the looney bin),
I get free time and three square meals;
With nothing to do, I win!
I want to be locked up
For freedom, time and such,
There’s just one obstacle for me:
I love my kids too much!
By Joanna Fuchs
Mother In Law Poem
Mother poems can be written to relatives other than the birth mother. This mother poem is a mother-in-law poem to show your appreciation.
Star Mother-In-Law
Some mother-in-laws are possessive;
Their child they still want to own.
My mother-in-law’s love is like sunlight;
On both of us it shone.
Some mother-in-laws put you down;
They think you’re not good enough.
My mother-in-law shows approval,
Affection, and other good stuff.
Some mother-in-laws interfere;
They think that they know best.
My mother-in-law lets us be;
She’s better than the rest.
And so I just want to thank you
For being who you are;
You’ve made everything so easy;
As a mother-in-law, you’re a star!
By Joanna Fuchs
Stepmother Poem
Among the searches for mother poems are lots of searches for stepmother poems. This stepmom poem shows appreciation for all she does.
Stepmother Poem
I’m so blessed that you’re my stepmom;
Let me tell you how I feel:
The deep affection I have for you
Is honest, true and real.
In this poem, I’m really glad
I’m able to convey
How glad I am you’re in my life;
I’m happy you’re here to stay!
By Joanna Fuchs
Mother Song
I tried to write mother poems for songs that could be sung by younger children, like Mother Is The Best, but I also wanted to write a mom poem that could be used by older children and adults. This mother song is to be sung to the tune of “Greensleeves,” which is also a Christmas song called “What Child Is This.”
Love Is A Mother’s Gift
When God made mothers, He took great care
To fill their hearts with love so rare.
Their children are their greatest prize;
You can see the great love in your mother’s eyes.
Love, love is a mother’s gift
To their precious children, their hearts to lift.
Warm, tender and giving love
That grows them up healthy and happy.
Thank you, mother for all you give
To help me grow and to help me live.
I will love you forevermore,
My mother, my mom, whom I adore.
Love, love is a mother’s gift
To their precious children, their hearts to lift.
Warm, tender and giving love
That grows us up healthy and happy.
By Joanna Fuchs
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Добрый день. В данной статье вы найдете несколько несложных рассказов о маме на английском языке. Эти тексты можно использовать для написания собственного сочинения «About my Mum». Предлагаемые описания не сложны, а потому могут использоваться даже в начальной школе. Полезны они также будут для учеников 5 и 6 классов (особенно 4 текст).
Сочинение про маму на английском языке с переводом #1.
My mum is 41 years old. She is very nice. My mum is small and slim. She has got blue eyes and short hair. Her favorite clothes are skirts, blouses, and dresses. Her favorite colors are green and yellow. Her favorite food is salad and all kinds of vegetables.
Her favorite animal is fish. She loves walking in the forest, but she hates skiing. Her hobbies are shopping and cooking. She can cook very well, and she always cleans the house. My mum always says to me that I should be a good student.
I love my mum because she is very nice.
ПЕРЕВОД
Моей маме 41 год. Она очень хорошая. Моя мама невысокая и стройная. У нее голубые глаза и короткие волосы. Ее любимая одежда — юбки, блузки и платья. Ее любимые цвета — зеленый и желтый. Ее любимая еда — салат и всевозможные овощи.
Ее любимое животное — рыбы. Она любит гулять в лесу, но ненавидит кататься на лыжах. Ее хобби — шоппинг и кулинария. Она умеет хорошо готовить, и она всегда убирает в доме. Моя мама всегда говорит мне, что я должен быть хорошим учеником.
Я люблю свою маму, потому что она очень милая.
Описание мамы на английском #2.
My mum is fantastic. She is 34 years old. My mother has got brown eyes. Her favorite color is red. She loves my brother and me. Her hobbies are swimming and cooking. She likes going for walks and she likes skiing with me. My mum is very good at cooking. My mother collects spices.
She works in a pastry shop. There she sells wonderful cakes, pies muffins, and many other delicious things. She drives a car. My mother is sometimes angry with me when I don´t want to learn.
I love my mum because she is the world´s best mum.
ПЕРЕВОД
Моя мама потрясающая. Ей 34 года. У моей мамы карие глаза. Ее любимый цвет — красный. Она любит моего брата и меня. Ее хобби — плавание и приготовление пищи. Ей нравится ходить на прогулки, и кататься со мной на лыжах. Моя мама очень хорошо готовит. Моя мама коллекционирует специи.
Она работает в кондитерской. Там она продает прекрасные пирожные, пироги и многие другие вкусности. Она умеет водить машину. Моя мама иногда злится на меня, когда я не хочу учиться.
Я люблю свою маму, потому что она лучшая мама в мире.
Сочинение на английском MOЯ МАМА #3.
My mum is 38 years old. She is nice and clever. My mum has got blue-green eyes. Mum has not got long hair. Her favorite clothes are jeans and T-shirts. Her favorite animal is a calf. We´ve got a farm and she often works in our stable. She feeds our animals. She loves our animals. She hates insects and me not doing my homework. Mum´s hobby is playing with our animals.
My mum has got three kids. She is a generous person. She is a good mum.
I love her very much.
ПЕРЕВОД
Моей маме 38 лет. Она добрая и умная. У моей мамы сине-зеленые глаза. У мамы не длинные волосы. Ее любимая одежда — джинсы и майки. Ее любимое животное – теленок. У нас есть ферма, и она часто работает в нашей конюшне. Она кормит животных. Она любит наших животных. Она ненавидит насекомых и когда я не делаю домашнее задание. Хобби моей мамы — играть с нашими животными.
У моей мамы трое детей. Она очень щедрая. Она хорошая мама.
Я ее очень сильно люблю.
Текст про маму на английском #4.
My name’s Alexandr, but everybody calls me Sasha. I’m twelve years old and I go to School № 20.
I live with my mum. Unfortunately, my parents are divorced. I don’t often meet my father because he moved to another city last year.
My mum’s name’s Olga. She’s 39 years old and she’s a teacher. She teaches History. She likes her job a lot. Students love my mum because she is very patient, sympathetic and cheerful.
She isn’t very tall (about 160 cm) and she is slim. She has brown hair and blue eyes. She wears glasses. I think she is beautiful and looks much younger than she is. She likes wearing fashionable clothes. So she is very pretty.
My mum always understands me. I can tell her everything. We spend a lot of time together.
She helps me with my homework or if I have any difficulties. In the evenings we often play board games and cards or just talk.
At the weekends she comes to my matches (I play football) or to my concerts (I play the guitar). She is very proud of me. After matches she invites me and my friends to eat an ice cream, to see a film or we go bowling. She likes my friends a lot.
In her free time, she meets her friends – her best friend is my English teacher. They go to the sports center. They swim and play table tennis. My mum goes to a dance class, too. She learns salsa and does it very well. She loves reading, she has hundreds of books.
ПЕРЕВОД
Меня зовут Александр, но все зовут меня Саша. Мне двенадцать лет, и я хожу в школу № 20.
Я живу с мамой. К сожалению, мои родители развелись. Я не часто вижу отца, потому что он переехал в другой город в прошлом году.
Моя мама зовут Ольга. Ей 39 лет и она учительница. Она преподает историю. Ей очень нравится ее работа. Ученики любят мою маму, потому что она очень терпеливая, отзывчивая и жизнерадостная.
Она не очень высокая (около 160 см) и стройная. У нее темные волосы и голубые глаза. Она носит очки. Я думаю, что она красивая и выглядит намного моложе своего возраста. Ей нравится носить модную одежду. Так что она очень красивая.
Моя мама всегда меня понимает. Я могу рассказать ей все. Мы проводим много времени вместе.
Она помогает мне с домашним заданием или у меня возникают какие-либо трудности. По вечерам мы часто играем в настольные игры и карты или просто разговариваем.
В выходные она приходит на мои матчи (я играю в футбол) или на мои концерты (я играю на гитаре). Она очень гордится мной. После матчей она приглашает меня и моих друзей съесть по мороженому, посмотреть фильм или поиграть в боулинг. Ей очень нравятся мои друзья.
В свободное время она встречается со своими друзьями — ее лучшая подруга — моя учительница английского языка. Они вместе ходят в спортивный центр. Они плавают и играют в настольный теннис. Моя мама также ходит на танцы. Она учится танцевать сальсу и у нее хорошо получается. Она любит читать, у нее сотни книг.
Надеюсь, вам понравились эти сочинения про маму на английском языке.
Понравилось? Сохраните на будущее и поделитесь с друзьями!
To Mother
by Thomas W. Fessenden
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Full Text
You painted no Madonnas
On chapel walls in Rome,
But with a touch diviner
You lived one in your home.You wrote no lofty poems
That critics counted art,
But with a nobler vision
You lived them in your heart.You carved no shapeless marble
To some high-souled design,
But with a finer sculpture
You shaped this soul of mine.You built no great cathedrals
That centuries applaud,
But with a grace exquisite
Your life cathedraled God.Had I the gift of Raphael,
Or Michelangelo,
Oh, what a rare Madonna
My mother’s life would show!
To My Mother
by Lucretia Maria Davidson
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Full Text
O thou whose care sustained my infant years,
And taught my prattling lip each note of love;
Whose soothing voice breathed comfort to my fears,
And round my brow hope’s brightest garland wove;To thee my lay is due, the simple song,
Which Nature gave me at life’s opening day;
To thee these rude, these untaught strains belong,
Whose heart indulgent will not spurn my lay.O say, amid this wilderness of life,
What bosom would have throbbed like thine for me?
Who would have smiled responsive? — who in grief,
Would e’er have felt, and, feeling, grieved like thee?Who would have guarded, with a falcon eye,
Each trembling footstep or each sport of fear?
Who would have marked my bosom bounding high,
And clasped me to her heart, with love’s bright tear?Who would have hung around my sleepless couch,
And fanned, with anxious hand, my burning brow?
Who would have fondly pressed my fevered lip,
In all the agony of love and woe?None but a mother — none but one like thee,
Whose bloom has faded in the midnight watch;
Whose eye, for me, has lost its witchery,
Whose form has felt disease’s mildew touch.Yes, thou hast lighted me to health and life,
By the bright lustre of thy youthful bloom —
Yes, thou hast wept so oft o’er every grief,
That woe hath traced thy brow with marks of gloom.O then, to thee, this rude and simple song,
Which breathes of thankfulness and love for thee,
To thee, my mother, shall this lay belong,
Whose life is spent in toil and care for me.
My Mother
by Ann Taylor
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Full Text
Who sat and watched my infant head
When sleeping on my cradle bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed?
My Mother.When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gazed upon my heavy eye,
And wept for fear that I should die?
My Mother.Who taught my infant lips to pray
And love God’s holy book and day,
And walk in wisdom’s pleasant way?
My Mother.And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast so very kind to me,
My Mother?Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear,
And if God please my life to spare
I hope I shall reward they care,
My Mother.When thou art feeble, old and grey,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My Mother.
To My Mother
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother,”– Edgar Allan Poe
To My Mother“
Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of “Mother,”
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you—
You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you
In setting my Virginia’s spirit free.
My mother—my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.
«To My First Love, My Mother»
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.
To the Best of Women, My Mother
by Arthur H. Adams
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Full Text
I would give it all up at a word from you, Mother o’ mine!
But the strife has begun
That I dare not shun:
Yet my heart looks home to the rest it knew,
To the questionless trust and the welcome true;
And you call to me now as you used to do, Mother o’ mine!
The wonderful years that we shared are flown, Mother o’ mine!The world has won
The heart of your son;
The child has died in the man full grown;
The path of my life I must tread alone,
And I dare not return when you call your own, Mother o’ mine!My heart in the chill of the world grows cold, Mother o’ mine!
But lives may run
Ere your love be done,
And the child I remember you still
In the passionate peace of your heart’s warm hold —
For ever for you I’m the child of old, Mother o’ mine!
To My Mother
by Robert Louis Stevenson
You too, my mother, read my rhymes
For love of unforgotten times,
And you may chance to hear once more
The little feet along the floor.
Written By The Sick Bed Of My Honored Mother
by Eliza and Sarah Wolcott
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Full Text
The form so belov’d, is fading away,
And the bosom is heaving with sighs;
The beating pulse flies, her life must decay,
For hope, her mild radiance denies.Dear mother, the guide of my earliest days,
Who so oft hath soothed my grief,
If gratitude, ever such kindness repays,
My bosom would here find relief.No proffer of friendship, e’er made me depart,
In childhood or youth, from thy care;
The voice of my mother still liv’d in my heart,
For love seal’d her image best there.The sound of the viol is dead to my soul,
The song of the serenade too;
I wait but to hear the knell that must toll
That sound which comports with my wo.I would not repine, though nature must die,
And leave me awhile, here to weep;
She dies but to live—her Savior is nigh,—
On His arm, she reposes in sleep.
The Hand That Rocks the Cradle
by William Ross Wallace
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Full Text
Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace.
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.Infancy’s the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mothers first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow—
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.Woman, how divine your mission,
Here upon our natal sod;
Keep—oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky—
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
The Bravest Battle Ever Fought
by Joaquin Miller
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Full Text
The bravest battle that ever was fought!
Shall I tell you where and when?
On the maps of the world you will find it not;
‘Twas fought by the mothers of men.Nay not with the cannon of battle-shot,
With a sword or noble pen;
Nay, not with eloquent words or thought
From mouth of wonderful men!
But deep in a walled-up woman’s heart —
Of a woman that would not yield,
But bravely, silently bore her part —
Lo, there is the battlefield!No marshalling troops, no bivouac song,
No banner to gleam and wave;
But oh! those battles, they last so long —
From babyhood to the grave.Yet, faithful still as a bridge of stars,
She fights in her walled-up town —
Fights on and on in her endless wars,
Then silent, unseen—goes down.Oh, ye with banners and battle-shot,
And soldiers to shout and paise!
I tell you the kingliest victories fought
Were fought in those silent ways.O spotless woman in a world of shame,
With splendid and silent scorn,
Go back to God as white as you came —
The Kingliest warrior born!
Motherhood
by C. S. Calverley
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Full Text
She laid it where the sunbeams fall
Unscann’d upon the broken wall.
Without a tear, without a groan,
She laid it near a mighty stone,
Which some rude swain had haply cast
Thither in sport, long ages past,
And Time with mosses had o’erlaid,
And fenced with many a tall grassblade,
And all about bid roses bloom
And violets shed their soft perfume.
There, in its cool and quiet bed,
She set her burden down and fled:
Nor flung, all eager to escape,
One glance upon the perfect shape
That lay, still warm and fresh and fair,
But motionless and soundless there.No human eye had mark’d her pass
Across the linden-shadow’d grass
Ere yet the minster clock chimed seven:
Only the innocent birds of heaven—
The magpie, and the rook whose nest
Swings as the elmtree waves his crest—
And the lithe cricket, and the hoar
And huge-limb’d hound that guards the door,
Look’d on when, as a summer wind
That, passing, leaves no trace behind,
All unapparell’d, barefoot all,
She ran to that old ruin’d wall,
To leave upon the chill dank earth
(For ah! she never knew its worth)
’Mid hemlock rank, and fern, and ling,
And dews of night, that precious thing!And there it might have lain forlorn
From morn till eve, from eve to morn:
But that, by some wild impulse led,
The mother, ere she turn’d and fled,
One moment stood erect and high;
Then pour’d into the silent sky
A cry so jubilant, so strange,
That Alice—as she strove to range
Her rebel ringlets at her glass—
Sprang up and gazed across the grass;
Shook back those curls so fair to see,
Clapp’d her soft hands in childish glee;
And shriek’d—her sweet face all aglow,
Her very limbs with rapture shaking—
“My hen has laid an egg, I know;
“And only hear the noise she’s making!”
Old-Fashioned Letters
by Edgar A. Guest
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I wonder if he’ll stop to think,
When the long years have traveled by,
Who heard his plea: «I want a drink!»
Who was the first to hear him cry?
I wonder if he will recall
The patience of her and the smile,
The kisses after every fall,
The love that lasted all the while?I wonder, as I watch them there,
If he’ll remember, when he’s grown,
How came the silver in her hair
And why her loveliness has flown?
Yet thus my mother did for me,
Night after night and day by day,
For such a care I used to be,
As such a boy I used to play.I know that I was always sure
Of tenderness at mother’s knee,
That every hurt of mine she’d cure,
And every fault she’d fail to see.
But who recalls the tears she shed,
And all the wishes gratified,
The eager journeys to his bed,
The pleas which never she denied?I took for granted, just as he,
The boundless love that mother gives,
But watching them I’ve come to see
Time teaches every man who lives
How much of him is not his own;
And now I know the countless ways
By which her love for me was shown,
And I recall forgotten days.Perhaps some day a little chap
As like him as he’s now like me,
Shall climb into his mother’s lap,
For comfort and for sympathy,
And he shall know what now I know,
And see through eyes a trifle dim,
The mother of the long ago
Who daily spent her strength for him.
Motherhood
by Mathilde Blind
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Full Text
From out the font of being, undefiled,
A life hath been upheaved with struggle and pain;
Safe in her arms a mother holds again
That dearest miracle—a new-born child.
To moans of anguish terrible and wild—
As shrieks the night-wind through an ill-shut pane—
Pure heaven succeeds; and after fiery strain
Victorious woman smiles serenely mild.Yea, shall she not rejoice, shall not her frame
Thrill with a mystic rapture! At this birth,
The soul now kindled by her vital flame
May it not prove a gift of priceless worth?
Some saviour of his kind whose starry fame
Shall bring a brightness to the darkened earth.
Masterpieces
by Ethel Hueston
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Full Text
Give me my pen,
For I would write fine thoughts, pure thoughts,
To touch men s hearts with tenderness,
To fire with zeal for service grim,
To cheer with mirth when skies are dull;
Give me my pen,
For I would write a masterpiece.
Yet stay a while,
For I must put away these toys,
And wash this chubby, grimy face,
And kiss this little hurting bruise,
And hum a bedtime lullaby
Take back the pen:
This is a woman s masterpiece.
The Mother
by Georgia Douglas Johnson
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Full Text
The mother soothes her mantled child
With incantation sad and wild;
A deep compassion brims her eye
And stills upon her lips, the sigh.Her thoughts are leaping down the years,
O’er branding bars, through seething tears,
Her heart is sandaling his feet
Adown the world’s corroding street.Then, with a start she dons a smile
His tender yearnings to beguile,
And only God will ever know
The wordless measure of her woe.
My Goal
by Ruth Markley Buchannan
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I want to be a dear old-fashioned mother,
Just like the one who loved and cared for me,
Who guided and directed through my childhood
And made me all I am or hope to be.
I want to know just how to soothe a heartache
And comfort when the eyes are wet with tears;
Just how to lead unknowing little footsteps
In paths of right to follow through the years.
If I can be a dear old-fashioned mother
And fill the place that mine has filled for me,
Be worthy of the love of trusting children—
‘Tis all I ask or ever long to be.
A Mother’s Prayer
Oh give me patience when wee hands
Tug at me with their small demands.
And give me gentle and smiling eyes.
Keep my lips from hasty replies.And let not weariness, confusion, or noise
Obscure my vision of life’s fleeting joys.
So when, in years to come my house is still—
No bitter memories its room may fill.
A Mother’s Prayer
Dear Lord, It’s such a hectic day,
With little time to stop and pray,
For Life’s been anything but calm,
Since You called me to be a Mom,Running errands, matching socks,
Building dreams with matching blocks,
Cooking, cleaning, finding shoes,
And other stuff that children lose,Fitting lids on bottled bugs,
Wiping tears and giving hugs,
A stack of last week’s mail to read,
So where’s the quiet time I need?Yet, when I steal a moment, Lord,
Just at the sink or ironing board,
To ask the blessings of Your grace,
I see them, in my small one’s face,That you have blessed me
All the while —
And I stoop to kiss
That precious smile.
A Mother’s prayer
The things I never told you I’d like to tell you now;
Of feelings held contentedly inside my heart to swell;
Of thoughts and dreams, wants and happiness too;
A Mother’s prayer to finally share with you.
Lord, govern their lives as you have mine,
Touch them with Your sweet divine,
Make them happy, guide their paths,
Tickle their funny bones, let me hear their laughs.
Dry the tears sliding down their faces,
Hold their hands when the love heart races,
Make them stand tall when the burdens are great,
Prepare them to carry the loads of fate.
Heal the hurts and sufferings of the spirit,
Make them listen until they hear it;
That sweet song of yours that will touch their soul
And carry them forward until they are old.
Lord, let them see the meaning of life,
Protect them from the evils of strife,
Gently guide them in the path of your ways,
I pray, Lord, I pray for them everyday.
I know, Lord, that I fell short many times;
In my guidance as «Mom» there were crimes,
Times that I failed to help them see
The beauty that you have bestowed around me.
Take their hands and lead them forward
Give them strength to avoid the coward
And evil ones that lurk about
Waiting` to swallow them up and shout
The conquest of their gentle soul
Provide them the coin to pass the toll.
Please make things right, Lord, once again
To help them to see the meaning of friend
And loved ones that hold them close to the heart
With a Mother that loves them, never apart.
Mothers—And Others
Others weary of the noise,
Mothers play with girls and boys.Others scold because we fell,
Mothers «kiss and make it well.»Others work with patient will,
Mothers labor later still.Others’ love is more or less,
Mothers love with steadiness.Others pardon, hating yet;
Mothers pardon and forget.Others keep the ancient score,
Mothers never shut the door.Others grow incredulous,
Mothers still believe in us.Others throw their faith away,
Mothers pray. and pray, and pray.
To Annie
«A mother’s love no tongue can tell —
How boundless is that sea»– Mary E. Tucker
To Annie“
by Mary E. Tucker
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Annie, my first-born, gentle child,
My tender, fragile flower;
Why twines thy image round my heart,
With such mysterious power?Is it because thy infant wail
The icy barrier moved,
That bound my soul’s affections fast?
I knew ’twas mine I loved.A mother’s love no tongue can tell —
How boundless is that sea!
‘Twas never mine; her spirit fled,
As she gave birth to me.Annie, I gave to thee, my child,
The love my heart could yield;
God grant its influence o’er thee cast
From all life’s ills a shield.
A Mother’s Jewels
by Arthur Weir
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The daughter of a hundred earls,
No jewels has with mine to mate,
Though she may wear in flawless pearls
The ransom of a mighty state.Hers glitter for the world to see,
But chill the breast where they recline:
My jewels warmly compass me,
And all their brilliancy is mine.My diamonds are my baby’s eyes,
His lips, sole rubies that I crave:
They came to me from Paradise,
And not through labors of the slave.My darling’s arms my necklace make,
‘Tis Love that links his feeble hands,
And Death, alone, that chain can break,
And rob me of those priceless bands.
A Mother’s Grief and Joy
by Hannah Flagg Gould
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I could not lift my voice to sing,
Nor touch my harp, to sweep a string;
And this world’s joy and music seemed
As things whereof I had but dreamed.
For Death’s pale angel stood so near
My only child, I could but Fear
And watch; or, bow my soul in prayer,
That He who governs Death, would spare
My tender infant’s life—would save
My heart from bursting o’er its grave.Ere yet twelve moons had silvered earth,
Since this bright being had its birth—
Before the soft, endearing word
Of ‘MOTHER,’ from its lips was heard,
The smiles that lit its beaming face
To marks of pain had given place.
Its cheek was wan, its languid eye
Rose feebly, as, to ask me why
I dropped from mine the tear of grief,
And did not give my babe relief.The sides seemed overspread with gloom
Deep as the shades that fill the tomb,
And earth’s bright blossoms, past away,
While my sweet flow’ret fading lay.
And, when I prayed—’Thy will be done!’
Strong nature cried, ‘O, be it one,
That shall my sinking babe restore!
And, Father, I will ask no more
Than that this froward will of mine
May here be swallowed up in thine!’I know not how this double prayer
Of little faith and great despair,
Could e’er have reached the mercy-seat
A gracious answer there to meet!
But this sure word rebuked my fears,
‘To reap in joy, ye sow in tears.’
Then He, who gave it, beard my cries,
And caused the star of hope to rise
Upon my soul with cheering ray,
A blessed herald of the day.And, since my heavenly Father smiled
Arid kindly gave me back my child,
The roses that its cheek resume
Have clothed the earth, to me, with bloom!
Its laughing eye to mine, is bright
Enough to fill the world with light!
There’s music on the balmy air;
There’s joy and glory every where!
I’ll wake my harp—my voice I’ll raise
And give to God my hymn of praise.
Excerpt from «The Affectionate Father»
She lives to see her children blest,
To crown her for her care,
She dies with truth and grace possess’d
She enters heaven with prayer.– Eliza Wolcott
The Affectionate Father“
by Eliza and Sarah Wolcott
But who can tell a mother’s love,
When her devotions rise,
Her infant’s lips are taught to move,
To gain the heavenly prize.She lives to see her children blest,
To crown her for her care,
She dies with truth and grace possess’d
She enters heaven with prayer.
Mother and the Baby
by Edgar A. Guest
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Mother and the baby! Oh, I know no lovelier pair,
For all the dreams of all the world are hovering ’round them there;
And be the baby in his cot or nestling in her arms,
The picture they present is one with never-fading charms.Mother and the baby—and the mother’s eye aglow
With joys that only mothers see and only mothers know!
And here is all there is to strife and all there is to fame,
And all that men have struggled for since first a baby came.I never see this lovely pair nor hear the mother sing
The lullabies of babyhood, but I start wondering
How much of every man to-day the world thinks wise or brave
Is of the songs his mother sang and of the strength she gave.«Just like a mother!» Oh, to be so tender and so true,
No man has reached so high a plane with all he’s dared to do.
And yet, I think she understands, with every step she takes
And every care that she bestows, it is the man she makes.Mother and the baby! And in fancy I can see
Her life being given gladly to the man that is to be,
And from her strength and sacrifice and from her lullabies,
She dreams and hopes and nightly prays a strong man shall arise.
August Afternoon
Sea-blue of gentian,
Blackberries ebony stain,
Yellow of goldenrod,
Tree fringes wavering along the road
Under the hill,
These make up an August afternoon
I have known:
But more than fruit or flower or tree
Is my mother’s love I hold
In my heart.
Cornelia’s Jewels
Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Among the haughtiest of her sex, in noble, quiet pride,
Cornelia stood, with mien that seemed their folly vain to chide:
No jewels sparkled on her brow, so high, so purely fair,
No gems were mingled ’mid her waves of dark and glossy hair;
And yet was she, amidst them all, despite their dazzling mien,
A woman in her gentle grace—in majesty a queen.While some now showed their flashing gems with vain, exulting air,
And others boasted of their toys, their trinkets rich and rare,
And challenged her to treasures bring that shone with equal light,
Proudly she glanced her dark eye o’er the store of jewels bright.
“Rich as these are,” she answered then, “and dazzling as they shine,
They cannot for one hour compete in beauty rare with mine!“You all seem doubtful, and a smile of scorn your features wear,
Look on my gems, and say if yours are but one half as fair?”
The Roman matron proudly placed her children in their sight
Whose brows already bore the seal of intellectual might;
She pressed them to her, whilst each trait with radiance seemed to shine,
And murmur’d: “Tell me, dare you say, your jewels outshine mine?”
Love Your Mother, Little One
by Richard Coe
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Love your mother, little one,
Love her tenderly;
Clasp your little arms around her,
For a holy tie has bound her—
Bound her close to you!
Love your mother, little one,
Love her tenderly!Love your mother, little one,
Love her earnestly;
Gaze into her eyes, and see there—
All that you could hope to be there—
Warmest love for you!
Love your mother, little one,
Love her earnestly!Love your mother, little one,
Love her fervently;
By your couch she kneeleth nightly,
And, with hands enclasped tightly,
Prays, love, for you!
Love your mother, little one,
Love her fervently!Love your mother, little one,
Love her tenderly;
Clasp your little arms around her,
For a holy tie has bound her—
Bound her close to you!
Love your mother, little one,
Love her tenderly!
My Good-For-Nothing
by Emily Huntington Miller
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«What are you good for, my brave little man?
Answer that question for me, if you can,—
You, with your fingers as white as a nun,—
You, with your ringlets as bright as the sun.
All the day long, with your busy contriving,
Into all mischief and fun you are driving;
See if your wise little noddle can tell
What you are good for. Now ponder it well.»Over the carpet the dear little feet
Came with a patter to climb on my seat;
Two merry eyes, full of frolic and glee,
Under their lashes looked up unto me;
Two little hands pressing soft on my face,
Drew me down close in a loving embrace;
Two rosy lips gave the answer so true,
«Good to love you, mamma, good to love you.»
My Mother
Hark! My mother’s voice I hear,
Sweet that voice is to my ear;
Ever soft, it seems to tell,
Dearest child, I love thee well.Love me, mother? Yes, I know
None can love so well as thou.
Was it not upon thy breast
I was taught to sleep and rest?Didst thou not, in hours of pain,
Lull this head to ease again?
With the music of thy voice,
Bid my little heart rejoice?Ever gentle, meek and mild,
Thou didst nurse thy fretful child.
Teach these little feet the road
Leading on to heaven and God.What return then can I make?
This fond heart, dear mother take;
Thine its, in word and thought,
Thine by constant kindness bought.
While We Have Them
by Amos Russel Wells
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There’s no one like a mother lad,
To comfort all our pain;
There’s no one like a father lad,
To make one smile again;
So while we have our mother boy,
Let’s drive away her fear;
And while we have our father boy,
Let’s fill his heart with cheer.There’s no one like a mother lad,
To keep us pure within;
There’s no one like a father lad,
To warn away from sin;
So while we have our mother boy,
Oh let us not rebel;
And while we have our father boy,
Let’s heed his warnings well.The time is surely coming lad,
When mother will be gone;
The time is surely coming lad,
Of father’s passing on;
So while we have our mother boy,
Let’s make her spirit blest;
And while we have our father boy,
Let’s be our very best.
Mother’s Way
by Abram Joseph Ryan
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Full Text
Oft within our little cottage,
As the shadows gently fall,
While the sunlight touches softly
One sweet face upon the wall,
Do we gather close together,
And in hushed and tender tone
Ask each other’s full forgiveness
For the wrong that each has done.
Should you wonder why this custom
At the ending of the day,
Eye and voice would quickly answer:
«It was once our mother’s way.»If our home be bright and cheery,
If it holds a welcome true,
Opening wide its door of greeting
To the many — not the few;
If we share our father’s bounty
With the needy day by day,
‘Tis because our hearts remember
This was ever mother’s way.Sometimes when our hands grow weary,
Or our tasks seem very long;
When our burdens look too heavy,
And we deem the right all wrong;
Then we gain a new, fresh courage,
And we rise to proudly say:
«Let us do our duty bravely —
This was our dear mother’s way.»Then we keep her memory precious,
While we never cease to pray
That at last, when lengthening shadows
Mark the evening of our day,
They may find us waiting calmly
To go home our mother’s way.
Rock Me to Sleep
by Elizabeth Akers Allen
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Full Text
Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again just for tonight!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears,—
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;—
Rock me to sleep, mother — rock me to sleep!Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I tonight for your presence again.
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like mother-love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures,—
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead tonight,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song:
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream.
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, — rock me to sleep!
My Mother’s Picture
by Louise Chandler Moulton
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How shall I here her placid picture paint
With touch that shall be delicate, yet sure?
Soft hair above a brow so high and pure
Years have not soiled it with an earthly taint,
Needing no aureole to prove her saint;
Firm mind that no temptation could allure;
Soul strong to do heart stronger to endure;
And calm sweet lips that utter no complaint.So have I seen her in my darkest days
And when her own most sacred ties were riven,
Walk tranquilly in self denying ways,
Asking for strength and sure it would be given;
Filling her life with lowly prayer high praise,—
So shall I see her if we meet in heaven.
My Mother’s Kiss
by Frances E. W. Harper
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My mother’s kiss, my mother’s kiss,
I feel its impress now;
As in the bright and happy days
She pressed it on my brow.You say it is a fancied thing
Within my memory fraught;
To me it has a sacred place—
The treasure house of thought.Again, I feel her fingers glide
Amid my clustering hair;
I see the love-light in her eyes,
When all my life was fair.Again, I hear her gentle voice
In warning or in love.
How precious was the faith that taught
My soul of things above.The music of her voice is stilled,
Her lips are paled in death.
As precious pearls I’ll clasp her words
Until my latest breath.The world has scattered round my path
Honor and wealth and fame;
But naught so precious as the thoughts
That gather round her name.And friends have placed upon my brow
The laurels of renown;
But she first taught me how to wear
My manhood as a crown.My hair is silvered o’er with age,
I’m longing to depart;
To clasp again my mother’s hand,
And be a child at heart.To roam with her the glory-land
Where saints and angels greet;
To cast our crowns with songs of love
At our Redeemer’s feet.
My Mother’s Voice
by Mary E. Tucker
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Oh never on my youthful ear
A Mother’s gentle accents broke!
The vital spark, from which I sprung,
Expired, as I to life awoke.No mother pressed me to her breast,
And bade my childish heart rejoice.
For with my infant first-born wail,
Death hushed for aye my mother’s voice.Alone I climbed the dizzy height,
That led to never-dying fame,
I sought and won, and now I wear
A famous, but unenvied name.Had she been near, to shield and guide
Her wayward, but her trustful child,
Rare flowerets would have bloomed where now
Are weeds in rank luxuriance, wild.In visions, sometimes, I behold
Her form of heavenly loveliness;
She speaks, and o’er me gently bends,
And prints on my pale brow a kiss.And I awake — ’tis but a dream!
But still the voice strikes on mine ear,
And from my callous heart calls forth
Up through mine eyes the scorching tear.Then pass not judgment rash, or harsh,
On stern Misfortune’s chosen child,
Who never heard a mother’s voice,
On whom a mother never smiled!
To My Mother
by Margaret Miller Davidson
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Full Text
Oh, mother, would the power were mine
To wake the strain thou lovest to hear,
And breathe each trembling new-born thought
Within thy fondly-listening ear,
As when in days of health and glee,
My hopes and fancies wandered free.But, mother, now a shade hath pass’d
Athwart my brightest visions here;
A cloud of darkest gloom hath wrapp’d
The remnant of my brief career;
No song, no echo can I win,
The sparkling fount hath dried within.The torch of earthly hope burns dim,
And fancy spreads her wings no more,
And oh, how vain and trivial seem
The pleasures that I prized before;
My soul, with trembling steps and slow,
Is struggling on through doubt and strife
Oh, may it prove, as time rolls on,
The pathway to eternal life!
Then when my cares and fears are o’er,
I’ll sing thee as in «days of yore.»I said that Hope had passed from earth,
‘Twas but to fold her wings in heaven,
To whisper of the soul’s new birth,
Of sinners saved and sins forgiven;
When mine are washed in tears away,
Then shall my spirit swell my lay.When God shall guide my soul above,
By the soft chords of heavenly love—
When the vain cares of earth depart,
And tuneful voices swell my heart—
Then shall each word, each note I raise
Burst forth in pealing hymns of praise,
And all not offered at His shrine,
Dear mother, I will place on thine.
My Mother’s Hands
Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
They’re neither white nor small;
And you, I know, would scarcely think
That they are fair at all.
I’ve looked on hands whose form and hue
A sculptor’s dream might be;
Yet are those aged, wrinkled hands
More beautiful to me.Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
Though heart were weary and sad,
Those patient hands kept toiling on,
That the children might be glad.
I always weep, as, looking back
To childhood’s distant day,
I think how those hands rested not
When mine were at their play.Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
They’re growing feeble now,
For time and pain have left their mark
On hands and heart and brow.
Alas! alas! the nearing time,
And the sad, sad day to me,
When ‘neath the daisies, out of sight,
These hands will folded be.But oh! beyond this shadow land,
Where all is bright and fair,
I know full well these dear old hands
Will palms of victory bear;
Where crystal streams through endless years
Flow over golden sands,
And where the old grow young again,
I’ll clasp my mother’s hands.
One Word
by Raymond Garfield Dandridge
If I had mighty wings to fly,
I’d soar aloft in yonder sky,
And paint with fire, to never die,
One word—Mother!Then far out on the desert waste,
In glist’ning sands again I’d trace,
So deep that naught could e’er erase,
One word—Mother!
Song of an Indian Mother
by John Brainard
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Full Text
«Sleep, child of my love! be thy slumber as light
As the redbird’s that nestles secure on the spray;
Be the visions that visit thee fairy and bright
As the dewdrops that sparkle around with the ray!
Oh, soft flows the breath from thine innocent breast;
In the wild wood, sleep cradles in roses thy head;
But her who protects thee, a wanderer unbless’d,
He forsakes, or surrounds with his phantoms of dread.
I fear for thy father! why stays he so long
On the shores where the wife of the giant was thrown,And the sailor oft linger’d to hearken her song,
So sad o’er the wave, ere she harden’d to stone.
He skims the blue tide in his birchen canoe,
Where the foe in the moonbeams his path may descry;
The ball to its scope may speed rapid and true,
And lost in the wave be thy father’s death cry!
The POWER that is round us, whose presence is near,
In the gloom and the solitude felt by the soul,
Protect that frail bark in its lonely career,
And shield thee when roughly life’s billows shall roll.»
The Young Mother
by Lydia Howard Sigourney
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Full Text
There sat upon the parent’s knee,
In love supremely bless’d,
An infant, fair and full of glee,
Caressing and caress’d,
While siren Hope, with gladness wild,
And eye cerulean blue,
Bent sweetly down to kiss the child,
And bless the mother too.Then Memory came, with serious mien,
And, looking back the while,
Cast such a shadow o’er the scene
As dimm’d Affection’s smile;
For still to Fancy’s brightest hours
She gave a hue of care,
And bitter odours tinged the flowers
That wreathed her sunny hair.But in the youthful mother’s soul
Each cloud of gloom was brief,
Too pure her raptured feelings roll
To take the tint of grief;
Firm Faith around her idol boy
Its radiant mantle threw,
And claim’d for him a higher joy
Than Hope or Memory knew.
Trust.
by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Full Text
A picture memory brings to me:
I look across the years and see
Myself beside my mother’s knee.I feel her gentle hand restrain
My selfish moods, and know again
A child’s blind sense of wrong and pain.But wiser now, a man gray grown,
My childhood’s needs are better known,
My mother’s chastening love I own.Gray grown, but in our Father’s sight
A child still groping for the light
To read His works and ways aright.I bow myself beneath His hand;
That pain itself for good was planned.
I trust, but cannot understand.I fondly dream it needs must be
That, as my mother dealt with me,
So with His children dealeth He.I wait, and trust the end will prove
That here and there, below, above,
The chastening heals, the pain is love!
Excerpt from «Upon her soothing breast»
Upon her soothing breast
She lulled her little child,
A winter sunset in the west
A heav’nly glory smiled.
I gazed within thine earnest eyes
And read the sorrow brooding there;
I heard thy young breast torn with sighs,
And envied such despair.
The Widow’s Lullaby
by Hannah Flagg Gould
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Full Text
Ah! slumber on, my darling boy,
Nor send the blissful dream away,
Which makes the smile of conscious joy
Across thy beauteous features play.Thou think’st, perhaps, thy sire is here,
And clasps thee in a fond embrace;
Thou know’st not ‘t is thy mother’s tear,
So warm upon thy dimpled face!Thou hast not learned how still and cold,
The arms where thou believ’st thou art;
Nor dost thou know that mine infold
An orphan near a widow’s heart!And, shouldst thou at this moment wake,
I know what name thou’dst lisp the first;
To hear it called in vain, would make
This aching, swelling heart to burst!
My Mother
Often into folly straying,
O, my mother! how I’ve grieved her!
Oft I’ve heard her for me praying,
Till the gushing tears relieved her;
And she gently rose and smiled,
Whispering, «God will keep my child.»She was youthful then, and sprightly,
Fondly on my father leaning,
Sweet she spoke, her eyes shone brightly,
And her words were full of meaning;
Now, an autumn leaf decayed;
I, perhaps, have made it fade.But, whatever ills betide thee,
Mother, in them all I share;
In thy sickness watch beside thee,
And beside thee kneel in prayer.
Best of mothers! on my breast
Lean thy head, and sink to rest.
A Mother’s Gift—The Bible
Remember, love, who gave thee this,
When other days shall come,
When she who had thine earliest kiss,
Sleeps in her narrow home.
Remember! ’twas a mother gave
The gift to one she’d die to save!That mother sought a pledge of love,
The holiest for her son,
And from the gifts of God above,
She chose a goodly one;
She chose for her beloved boy,
The source of light, and life, and joy.She bade him keep the gift, that, when
The parting hour should come,
They might have hope to meet again
In an eternal home.
She said his faith in this would be
Sweet incense to her memory.And should the scoffer, in his pride,
Laugh that fond faith to scorn,
And bid him cast the pledge aside,
That he from youth had borne,
She bade him pause, and ask his breast
If SHE or HE had loved him best.A parent’s blessing on her son
Goes with this holy thing;
The love that would retain the one,
Must to the other cling.
Remember! ’tis no idle toy:
A mother’s gift! remember, boy.
Mothers
Most good things—especially cakes and toys,
Don’t go around among all the girls and boys,
And some must go without;
Some children have one good thing, some another—
I know a child who has no little brother,
But very fine it is that pretty nearly everybody has a mother—
And that’s the best of all, no doubt.
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kedelarolat345
Вопрос по английскому языку:
My mother works in a bank, and she home until about 7.00 in the evening — she`s very hard-working, and she often her laptop home and
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Ответы и объяснения 1
ngwiath951
-doesn’t get home …
-brings her laptop…
-does some work …
-doesn’t get up …
-stays in bed …
-has a job …
-don’t have the same …
-doesn’t like sport …
-get on really well…
-don’t see each other very often..
-lives in Scotland.
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