A Mother's Love Determines How

A mother's love determines how
We love ourselves and others.
There is no sky we'll ever see
Not lit by that first love.

Stripped of love, the universe
Would drive us mad with pain;
But we are born into a world
That greets our cries with joy.

How much I owe you for the kiss
That told me who I was!
The greatest gift--a love of life--
Lay laughing in your eyes.

Because of you my world still has
The soft grace of your smile;
And every wind of fortune bears
The scent of your caress.
Written by: Nicholas Gordon

Grandmothers Are Mothers Who Are Grand

Grandmothers are mothers who are grand,
Restoring the sense that our most precious things
Are those that do not change much over time.
No love of childhood is more sublime,
Demanding little, giving much on demand,
More inclined than most to grant the wings
On which we fly off to enchanted lands.
Though grandmothers must sometimes serve as mothers,
Helping out, or maybe taking over,
Each has all the patience wisdom brings,
Remembering our passions more than others,
Singing childish songs we long remember.
Written by: Nicholas Gordon

"Happy Mother's Day" Means More

'Happy Mother's Day" means more
Than have a happy day.
Within those words lie lots of things
We never get to say.

It means I love you first of all,
Then thanks for all you do.
It means you mean a lot to me,
And that I honor you.

But most of all, I guess it means
That I am thinking of
Your happiness on this, your day,
With pleasure and with love.
Written by: Nicholas Gordon

Happiness, like Most Things, Comes from Mothers

Happiness, like most things, comes from mothers.
An amniotic universe is rare.
Paradises aren't found with others,
Perhaps because we must breathe our own air.
Yet even after paradise, we find
Mothers are a bath of warm affection.
Only mothers' love is truly blind
To guarantee all errant souls protection.
However we find love, it can be only
Evanescences of memories
Retained from when we never could be lonely,
'Ere we left our mother's outsized knees.
So good it is to have that happiness
Designed to grace each subsequent caress,
All future love and joy to underlie,
Yearning backwards towards a mother's sigh.
Written by: Nicholas Gordon

How Much I Love You I Can't Say

How much I love you I can't say:
It's more than words can hold.
You're all at once my rich, red clay,
My potter and my mold.

Yours the words that shaped my voice,
The spirit within mine.
Yours the will that shaped my choice,
My fortune, and my sign.

How lucky I was to have had you
At the core of me!
Wise and good, you always knew
Just what I could be.

And so I came to be someone
Whom I could be proud of.
For this I give my swollen sum
Of gratitude and love.
Written by: Nicholas Gordon

Mother's Hands

Dear gentle hands have stroked my hair
And cooled my brow,
Soft hands that pressed me close
And seemed to know somehow
Those fleeting moods and erring thoughts
That cloud me day,
Which quickly melt beneath their suffrage
And pass away.

No other balm for earthly pain
Is half so sure,
No sweet caress as filled with love
Nor half so pure.
No other soul so close akin that understands,
No touch that brings such perfect peace as Mother's hands.
Written by: W. Dayton Wedgefarth

Mothers and Daughters

Mothers and daughters
Were daughters and mothers
Not so long ago.
We give and take
And take and give
Along time's endless row.

Love is passed
And love received
To be passed on again:
A precious heirloom
Twice, twice blessed,
A spiritual cardigan.

I'll put it on
And treasure it,
The me I have received,
And when the roles
Reverse again,
I'll have what I most need.

So may our love
Go on and on,
A hundred thousand years;
Mothers and daughters,
Daughters and mothers,
Through joys and other tears.
Written by: Nicholas Gordon