Facing the loss of a mother is like losing a compass that guided you through life. Mothers are the anchors of our hearts, weaving a tapestry of love, security, and unwavering support. Their absence leaves a void that echoes with whispered memories and unfulfilled conversations. This collection of poems explores the depths of that grief, the strength she instilled, and the enduring love that transcends even death. Within these verses, you may find solace in the warmth of her embrace, a voice to your heartache, and a flicker of hope for carrying on the light she nurtured within you.

by Don Marquis

So let them pass, these songs of mine,
Into oblivion, nor repine;
Abandoned ruins of large schemes,
Dimmed lights adrift from nobler dreams,

Weak wings I sped on quests divine,
So let them pass, these songs of mine.
They soar, or sink ephemeral-
I care not greatly which befall!

For if no song I e’er had wrought,
Still have I loved and laughed and fought;
So let them pass, these songs of mine;
I sting too hot with life to whine!

Still shall I struggle, fail, aspire,
Lose God, and find Gods in the mire,
And drink dream-deep life’s heady wine-
So let them pass, these songs of mine.

by Anna Williams

If you see a sunset, it’s me, smiling
From behind it.
If I go away far, and you see a star
If you find it,
I’m inside it.
You can fold it, and hold it forever,
If you hide it.
If our words and worlds sever — if ever
I lose you;
If two thousand light-years or seven
Confuse you;
Remember me. Here and in Heaven
I’ll see you.
I’ll be beguiling my filing, still smiling
To see you.
When mountains, magenta and molded
Turn red,
Like you said,
You’ll find the feeling you folded
Not dead.
You’ll steal the swirling sky, turning
With me.
You won’t be bounded, but burning
And free.

by Joanna Fuchs

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 Unknown

There’s magic in a Mother’s touch,
and sunshine in her smile.
There’s love in everything she does
to make our lives worthwhile.
We can find both hope and courage
Just by looking in her eyes.
Her laughter is a source of joy,
her works are warm and wise.
There is a kindness and compassion
to be found in her embrace,
and we see the light of heaven
shining from a Mother’s face.

by Unknown

A mom is one of life’s best gifts,
Someone to treasure all life through,
She’s caring and loving,
Thoughtful and true,
Someone who is always a special part of your life,
Someone who holds a prime place in your heart,
She’s a mentor, a confident and also a friend,
Someone on whose love you can depend.
A mom always has your best interests at heart,
She’s someone so dear and so good,
She’s a blessing, she’s a gift,
She’s a treasure like no other,
She’s someone that is truly wonderful.
Wherever you go, and whatever you do,
A mom’s love will always see you through,
A mom is truly invaluable,
Indispensable and unforgettable.
I wouldn’t want anyone but you,
And that’s why I’m so grateful,
that life picked you for me.

by Margaret Widdemer

She always leaned to watch for us
Anxious if we were late,
In winter by the window,
In summer by the gate.
And though we mocked her tenderly
Who had such foolish care,
The long way home would seem more safe,
Because she waited there.
Her thoughts were all so full of us,
She never could forget,
And so I think that where she is
She must be watching yet.
Waiting ‘til we come home to her
Anxious if we are late
Watching from Heaven’s window
Leaning from Heaven’s gate.

by Helen Lowrie Marshall

I’d like the memory of me
to be a happy one,
I’d like to leave an afterglow
of smiles when life is done.
I’d like to leave an echo
whispering softly down the ways,
of happy times and laughing times
and bright and sunny days.
I’d like the tears of those who grieve,
to dry before the sun of happy memories
that I leave behind when day is done.

by Clare Jones

As we look back over time
We find ourselves wondering …..
Did we remember to thank you enough
For all you have done for us?
For all the times you were by our sides
To help and support us …..
To celebrate our successes
To understand our problems
And accept our defeats?
Or for teaching us by your example,
The value of hard work, good judgement,
Courage and integrity?
We wonder if we ever thanked you
For the sacrifices you made.
To let us have the very best?
And for the simple things
Like laughter, smiles and times we shared?
If we have forgotten to show our
Gratitude enough for all the things you did,
We’re thanking you now.
And we are hoping you knew all along,
How much you meant to us.

by Amanda for her mother, Bonnie Hampton

The memories of the past are vague
The hurts are forever and forgiven
What I have today is what there is forever
And those are the memories of all I have to hold on to.
In my mind I remember a face-one of beauty
One with rarely a frown
And almost always a smile
Never a harsh word-just a kind gentle smile
I hear her voice as she says kind words to all who she knew
The words were always soft
And they were who she was
I will forever hear her say “Hi Honey” soft and gentle was her voice
In the air I breathe
I know she is there
To guide and protect all who she loved
I will forever be grateful
I was born through her to love
I am now who she was

by Unknown

You can only have one mother
Patient kind and true;
No other friend in all the world,
Will be the same to you.
When other friends forsake you,
To mother you will return,
For all her loving kindness,
She asks nothing in return.
As we look upon her picture,
Sweet memories we recall,
Of a face so full of sunshine,
And a smile for one and all.
Sweet Jesus, take this message,
To our dear mother up above;
Tell her how we miss her,
And give her all our love.

by Dolores M. Garcia

If roses grow in Heaven, Lord,

Please pick a bunch for me.

Place them in my Mother’s arms

And tell her they’re from me.

Tell her that I love and miss her,

And when she turns to smile,

Place a kiss upon her cheek,

And hold her for a while.

Because remembering her is easy,

I do it every day,

But there’s an ache within my heart

That will never go away.

by Patrick O’Reilly

God made a wonderful mother,

A mother who never grows old;

He made her smile of the sunshine,

And He moulded her heart of pure gold;

In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,

In her cheeks fair roses you see;

God made a wonderful mother,

And He gave that dear mother to me.

by Henry Ward Beecher

When God thought of mother,

He must have laughed with satisfaction,

and framed it quickly —

so rich, so deep, so divine,

so full of soul, power, and beauty,

was the conception.

Unknown Author

We had a wonderful mother,
One who never really grew old;
Her smile was made of sunshine,
And her heart was solid gold;
Her eyes were as bright as shining stars,
And in her cheeks fair roses you see.
We had a wonderful mother,
And that’s the way it will always be.
But take heed, because
She’s still keeping an eye on all of us,
So let’s make sure
She will like what she sees.

by Ron Tranmer

We little knew that day,
God was going to call your name.
In life, we loved you dearly,
In death, we do the same.

It broke our hearts to lose you.
You did not go alone.
For part of us went with you,
The day God called you home.

You left us peaceful memories,
Your love is still our guide.
And although we cannot see you,
You are always at our side.

Our family chain is broken,
And nothing seems the same,
But as God calls us one by one,
The chain will link again.

by Patrick Kavanagh

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay

Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see

You walking down a lane among the poplars

On your way to the station, or happily

Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday –

You meet me and you say:

‘Don’t forget to see about the cattle – ‘

Among your earthiest words the angels stray.

And I think of you walking along a headland

Of green oats in June,

So full of repose, so rich with life –

And I see us meeting at the end of a town

On a fair day by accident, after

The bargains are all made and we can walk

Together through the shops and stalls and markets

Free in the oriental streets of thought.

O you are not lying in the wet clay,

For it is a harvest evening now and we

Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight

And you smile up at us  – eternally.

by Marian Jones

These hands
that have been worn through time
their knuckles swollen and distorted
by years of living and caring and praying.

These hands
that have feasted on joy
and been consumed by sorrow
that have collected tears
and rainwater in their cupped palms
and washed clothes and floors
and sprinkled flour on a counter
to make pie crusts roll out
in round circles of perfection.

These hands
have never fallen idle
in the passing of years.
They have carried me
soothed me
fed me.
They have pulled back my hair
when I was sick
and stroked my back
while I lay sleeping.

These hands have woven stories in the air
with their dancing insistence, they can speak
without words
they have given benediction and disapproval
without sound
always silently carrying
the burdens
of a past hurt, a long-ago pain.
In their silence
they have grown tired and weary.

They are resting now
these hands
that do not need to knock
at the door of eternity
for these wise and loving hands
know God is waiting
at the open door of the eternal beyond.

These hands are resting now.
They lie silently on the heart of my mother
who rests at this sacred threshold
as if to catch her breath in the here and now
before crossing over
into the forever after.

These hands are resting now.
Soon, they will be at peace forevermore.

by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.

by Unknown Author

Her Journey’s Just Begun

Don’t think of her as gone away,

her journey’s just begun,

Life holds so many facets,

this earth is only one,

Just think of her as resting,

from the sorrows and the tears,

In a place of warmth and comfort,

where there are no days or years,

Think how she must be wishing,

that we could know today,

How nothing but our sadness,

can really pass away,

And think of her as living,

in the hearts of those she touched,

For nothing loved is ever lost,

and she was loved so much.