Free Printable Mothers Day Poem Novels & Stories

her mum said in an excited tone. Arlene turned the volume up to the loudest and they kept up with their mini karaoke which was pretty much loud, because people on the road started to look at them. But then none of them cared, to Arlene her mum was a vibe and not like the regular southingham mothers who were boring and lame. These were the moments she lived for, there was never a dull moment with her mum even though they had little cat fights, but it was normal with females. “Do you think dad would be back from work by now?” Arlene asked her mum who was still caught up in the blues of the music playing.

"But I want you to know, Mom, that I carry you with me always. Your love, your guidance, and your strength are etched deep within my being. Even though you're no longer physically here, I feel your presence in the gentle breeze, and in the quiet moments when I seek solace." "I want to thank you, Mom, for everything you gave me. The love, the sacrifices, the countless moments of joy and laughter. You were my rock, my guiding light. And even though our time together was cut short, I am grateful for every second we shared." A soft breeze rustles the leaves of nearby trees, as if nature itself is listening to Nora's words, offering its silent support. She reaches out, gently touching the engrave

My mother, finally embracing love anew, had tied the knot with Jones in a joyous ceremony that flooded our lives with hope. The day of my mother's wedding dawned bright and beautiful, the sun showering the world with golden light, reflecting the joy that enveloped our small family gathering. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched my mom, radiant in a flowing gown that seemed to shimmer with happiness, moving around the house, double-checking every detail. The air filled with the soft scent of blooming flowers, and gentle laughter drifted through the open windows, mingling with soft music that wrapped the home in warmth.

Mom: if you claim you love this girl, then do what would make her happy Me: what if I can't. Mom: what if you can? I sighed Me: should I make you proud? She smiled Mom: at least, for once. Make momma proud by doing the right thing I chuckled quietly

Her father's voice broke and as he goes sentimental. "Dad..." She couldn't help to utter as tears started to form in her eyes. "Do you remember when you read a poem to me about being a wonder kid way back when you're nine, Sunshine?" She smiled remembering that memory when she was a little kid. How could she forget that? She recited that poem in front of him when she was a little girl on Father's Day. She could still remember some parts of the line. The poem is about the traits of how a wonderful kid should act. It says a wonder kid should be always good, kind-hearted, never bad, have fear in God, and stuff like that. She could still remember what she told him after reciting the poem to him

Evelyn. “Happy Birthday, Mom.” She hugged her and kissed her cheek. “Long life and prosperity.” “Thank you, my child. I wasn’t expecting this you know. I was thinking of spending the day all alone in the house after church but I was surprised when I came home to so many visitors, decorations, food and cake.” “You deserve it, mom, Happy Mother’s Day.” “Thanks. I just feel so happy because my children planned this for me.” She pointed to the Minibar in the living room where all her four children stood.

"Well, that is going to change. This year, you are going to celebrate Mother's Day. And you are going to love it." She looked up at me. "Really? You think so?" "I know so. Because I am going to make sure of it." She smiled. A small, tentative smile. "What do people do on Mother's Day?" "People do all kinds of things. They make breakfast in bed. They give cards and flowers. They spend the day together." She nodded. "That sounds nice. That sounds really nice." I reached over and squeezed her hand. "It is going to be wonderful. I promise."

“You know your mom loves you, right? She brought you into this world, she’s been there for you every step… even when things got messy.” “We all know you’re her favorite.” Under his gentle coaxing, Lily’s crying gradually faded. She clung to his arm like an octopus, wrapped her small arms around his neck, and asked in a trembling voice, “Really?” “Of course,” Victor replied. Then he glanced at me meaningfully. “Why don’t you ask your mom yourself?” Lily looked over at me, her eyes red and swollen, full of expectation. But I didn’t move. I didn’t even lift my eyelids.

My mother, Margaret Harper, carries the blood of a Word Witch. Once every lunar cycle, she can speak one blessing that fate itself is forced to obey. But all my life, the only thing she ever gave me was half a sentence. When I was eighteen, I received early admission to the Northern Royal Healers' Academy. My mother looked at the letter and said, "If you go north..." Her instincts had never been wrong, so I thought she'd seen danger waiting for me there. I turned the academy down with my own hands. Months later, she used her recommendation and a binding blessing to send my younger sister, Chloe, to the best healing school near our pack, even though Chloe had nowhere near my talent. After tha

Joan is the kind of mother who is crying at doors of apartments of sons the mothers are the mothers of on Sunday afternoons when the mothers are the kind of mothers who are hugging the women the sons of the mothers are going to marry, in the way that mothers cry at doors of apartments of sons the mothers are the mothers of on Sunday afternoons when the mothers are the kind of mothers who are hugging the women the sons of the mothers are going to marry. You are perfect, Joan says. You are perfect the way mothers say perfect when the mothers are the kind of mothers who are the mothers of the sons the mothers are the mothers of and the sons of the mothers are the kind of sons who are going to m