20 Famous And Short Motherhood Poems That Celebrate Mom

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Poems about motherhood help appreciate the struggles and sacrifices of all mothers and honor the love and care for their children. The true meaning of being a mother cannot be put into words. The strength, courage, and grace that it takes to raise a baby are wonderful, not to forget her unconditional love. In this post, we have put together some truly heart-touching and endearing poems on motherhood. Share them with your lovely mother and bring a smile to her face.

20 Epic And Lovable Motherhood Poems

These poems on motherhood will help you understand the struggles of a mother and bring you a little more closer to your mother. Read on.

Short Poems About Motherhood

Read through this collection of short poems about motherhood. Send these to your mom to show your love for her.

1. Motherhood

Motherhood oh motherhood….

Why must you be so challengingly….

Motherhood why must you test the test of time????

Motherhood why must new moms feel they know it all….

Motherhood you have the most experience why can’t you show the show?? Walk the walk…

Motherhood motherhood why can you know you’re not always the best..

Motherhood motherhood not everyone is the same…

–          By Sharon

2.  Mother to Son

Well, son, I’ll tell you:

Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

It’s had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor—


But all the time

I’se been a-climbin’ on,

And reachin’ landin’s,

And turnin’ corners,

And sometimes goin’ in the dark

Where there ain’t been no light.

So boy, don’t you turn back.

Don’t you set down on the steps

’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now—

For I’se still goin’, honey,

I’se still climbin’,

And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

–          By Langston Hughes

3.  Mother

The water of her womb, your first home.

The body she pulled apart to welcome you to the world.

The spirit in you she helped grow with all she knew.

The heart that she gave you when yours fell apart.

You are her soft miracle.

So she gave you her eyes to see the best in the worst.

You carry your mother in your eyes.

Make her proud of all she watches you do.

–          By Nikita Gill

4.  I will have to wait till I’m a mother

I struggle so deeply

To understand

How someone can

Pour their entire soul

Blood and energy

Into someone

Without wanting

Anything in return

–          By Rupi Kaur

5.  The Sweetest Mother

Our mother is the sweetest and

Most delicate of all.

She knows more of paradise

Than angels can recall.

She’s not only beautiful

But passionately young,

Playful as a kid, yet wise

As one who has lived long.


Her love is like the rush of life,

A bubbling, laughing spring

That runs through all like liquid light

And makes the mountains sing.

–          By Pamela 

Sylvia Plath Motherhood Poems

Sylvia Plath’s poems about motherhood are a gem in themselves. They showcase the incredible experience of being a mother.

6.  Morning Song

Love set you going like a fat gold watch.

The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry

Took its place among the elements.


Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.

In a drafty museum, your nakedness

Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.


I’m no more your mother

Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow

Effacement at the wind’s hand.


All night your moth-breath

Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:

A far sea moves in my ear.


One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral

In my Victorian nightgown.

Your mouth opens clean as a cat’s. The window square


Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try

Your handful of notes;

The clear vowels rise like balloons.

–          By Sylvia Plath 

7.  Stillborn

These poems do not live: it’s a sad diagnosis.

They grew their toes and fingers well enough,

Their little foreheads bulged with concentration.

If they missed out on walking about like people

It wasn’t for any lack of mother-love.


O I cannot explain what happened to them!

They are proper in shape and number and every part.

They sit so nicely in the pickling fluid!

They smile and smile and smile at me.

And still the lungs won’t fill and the heart won’t start.


They are not pigs, they are not even fish,

Though they have a piggy and a fishy air —

It would be better if they were alive, and that’s what they were.

But they are dead, and their mother near dead with distraction,

And they stupidly stare and do not speak of her.

–          Sylvia Plath 

Christian Motherhood Poems

Thank your mother for giving birth to you and for all the hard work while raising you. Have a look at these Christian motherhood poems and acknowledge your mother’s love.

8. Wonderful Mother of Mine

I pray every night to our Father above,

For that wonderful mother of mine.

I ask Him to keep her as long as He can

That wonderful mother of mine.


There are treasures on earth,

That made life seem worthwhile,

But there’s none can compare

To my mother’s smile.

–          Clyde Hager

9.  A Mother’s Love

A Mother’s love, a Mother’s care,

A Mother’s sigh, a Mother’s prayer

A Mother’s work, and Mother’s day,

Leaves little time for any play.


A Godly Mother with Godly love,

Is treasure from God above,

A Godly Mother with Godly care,

Has God’s help when she sighs a prayer.

–          Calvin M Lake

 10.  Motherhood

The dearest gifts that heaven holds,

The very finest, too,

Were made into one pattern

That was perfect, sweet, and true;


The Angels smiled, well-pleased, and said:

“Compared to all the others,

This pattern is so wonderful

Let’s use it just for Mothers!”


And through the years a mother has been

All that’s sweet and good

For there’s one bit of God and love,

In all true Motherhood.

–          Helen Steiner Rice

11.  To Mother

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!

–          Thomas W. Fessenden

12. Thank God for Mother’s Love

There is no love, like a mother’s love,

No stronger bond on earth.

Like the precious bond that comes from God,

To a mother, when she gives birth.


A mother’s love is forever strong,

Never changing for all time.

And when her children need her most,

A mother’s love will shine.


God bless these special mothers,

God bless them every one.

For all the tears and heartache,

And for the special work they’ve done.


When her days on earth are over,

A mother’s love lives on.

Through many generations,

With God’s blessings on each one.


Be thankful for our mothers,

For they love with a higher love.

From the power God has given,

And the strength from up above.

–          Anon

Inspirational Poems On Motherhood

Mothers are the first teacher and most inspiring person for every child. Share these poems with your mother to make them feel special and loved.

13.  For My Mother

Once more

I summon you

Out of the past

With poignant love,

You who nourished the poet

And the lover.

I see your gray eyes

Looking out to sea

In those Rockport summers,

Keeping a distance

Within the closeness

Which was never intrusive

Opening out

Into the world.

And what I remember

Is how we laughed

Till we cried

Swept into merriment

Especially when times were hard.

And what I remember

Is how you never stopped creating

And how people sent me

Dresses you had designed

With rich embroidery

In brilliant colors

Because they could not bear

To give them away

Or cast them aside.

I summon you now

Not to think of

The ceaseless battle

With pain and ill health,

The frailty and the anguish.

No, today I remember

The creator,

The lion-hearted.

–          By May Sarton

14.  Mother o’ Mine

If I were hanged on the highest hill,

Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

I know whose love would follow me still,

Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!


If I were drowned in the deepest sea,

Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

I know whose tears would come down to me,

Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!


If I were damned of body and soul,

I know whose prayers would make me whole,

Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine!

–          By Rudyard Kipling

15. Foreign Body

This is a poem on my mother’s body,

I mean, my mother’s body, I mean the one


Who saved her braid of blue-black hair

In a drawer when I was little.


Meaning one I could lean against —

Against not in resistance. Fuzzy dress

Of wuzzy one. Red lipstick one.

Kitchen one. Her one to me,


Bad-ger bad-ger —

Or so I heard. The one body I write on

Like Daddy’s blank studio wall

With my colored pencils.

About seeing her skin


As she bathed in the afternoon —

Was I five? It was summer.


Then today’s winter where again

I call that bath to mind.

I cannot leave her body alone.

Which is how I found Mother in the bath

Escaping the heat of a 1950s house,


Father on a ladder with blowtorch

To scrape the paint off the outside.


Badger badger

The sun in the suburbs

Simmered the tar roof over our rooms


In the town where only wasps lived

Inside paper cells beneath eaves and roots.

And they hurt very much, the wasps.


Now I am sixty. Sweet as dried papaya.

My hair, a bit tarnished,

My inmost, null.


Memory is failing away

As if an image shattered to shards then

Recollected for a kaleidoscope:


I click the pieces into sharp arrangements —

Grouse, crow, craven

— No, now, my own daughter turns sovereign

–           Kimiko Hahn

 16.  What I Learned From My Mother

I learned from my mother how to love

The living, to have plenty of vases on hand

In case you have to rush to the hospital

With peonies cut from the lawn, black ants

Still stuck to the buds. I learned to save jars

Large enough to hold fruit salad for a whole

Grieving household, to cube home-canned pears

And peaches, to slice through maroon grape skins

And flick out the sexual seeds with a knife point.

I learned to attend viewings even if I didn’t know

The deceased, to press the moist hands

Of the living, to look in their eyes and offer

Sympathy, as though I understood loss even then.

I learned that whatever we say means nothing,

What anyone will remember is that we came.

I learned to believe I had the power to ease

Awful pains materially like an angel.

Like a doctor, I learned to create

From another’s suffering my own usefulness, and once

You know how to do this, you can never refuse.

To every house you enter, you must offer

Healing: a chocolate cake you baked yourself,

The blessing of your voice, your chaste touch.

–          ByJulia Kasdorf

17.  Before I Was Myself, You Made Me, Me

Before I was myself you made me, me

With love and patience, discipline and tears,

Then bit by bit stepped back to set me free,


Allowing me to sail upon my sea,

Though well within the headlands of your fears.

Before I was myself you made me, me


With dreams enough of what I was to be

And hopes that would be sculpted by the years,

Then bit by bit stepped back to set me free,


Relinquishing your powers gradually

To let me shape myself among my peers.

Before I was myself you made me, me,


And being good and wise, you gracefully

As dancers when the last sweet cadence nears

Bit by bit stepped back to set me free.


For love inspires learning naturally:

The mind assents to what the heart reveres.

And so it was through love you made me, me

By slowly stepping back to set me free.

–          Unknown

18. First Weeks

Those first weeks, I don’t know if I knew

How to love our daughter. Her face looked crushed,

Crumpled with worry-and not even

Despair, but just depression, a look of

Endurance. The skin of her face was finely

Wrinkled, there were wisps of hair on her ears,

She looked a little like a squirrel, suspicious,

Tranced. And smallish, 6.13,

Wizened-she looked as if she were wincing

Away from me without moving. The first

Moment I had seen her, my glasses off,

In the delivery room, a blur of blood,

And blue skin, and limbs, I had known her,

Upside down, and they righted her, and there

Came that faint, almost sexual, wail, and her

Whole body flushed rose.

When I saw her next, she was bound in cotton,

Someone else had cleaned her, wiped

The inside of my body off her

And combed her hair in narrow scary

Plough-lines. She was ten days early;

Seepy, the breast so engorged it stood out nearly

Even with the nipple, her lips would so much as

Approach it, it would hiss and spray.

In two days we took her home, she shrieked

and whimpered, like a dream of a burn victim,

And when she was quiet, she would lie there and peer, not quite

Anxiously. I didn’t blame her,

She’d been born to my mother’s daughter. I would kneel

And gaze at her, and pity her.

All day I nursed her, all night I walked her,

And napped, and nursed, and walked her. And then,

One day, she looked at me, as if

She knew me. She lay along my forearm, fed, and

Gazed at me as if remembering me,

As if she had known me, and liked me, and was getting

Her memory back. When she smiled at me,

Delicate rictus like a birth-pain coming,

I fell in love, I became human.

–          Sharon Olds

 19. 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.

–          Edgar Allan Poe

20. Dawn

Of your hand I could say this

A bird poised mid-air in flight

As delicate and smooth.


Of your mouth

A foxglove in its taking

Without edges or hurt.


This of your ear

A tiny sea-horse, immortal

Sporting in white waves


And of your eye

A place where no one could hide

Nothing lurk.


Of your cupped flesh

Smooth in my palm

An agate on the sea-shore


Of your back and belly

That they command kisses.

And of your feet I would say


They are inquisitive and gay

As squirrels or birds

And so return to your hand


And begin my voyage

Around your loveliness

Again and yet again

As in my arms you lie sleeping.

–          Jeni Couzyn

Some of these poems portray the real experience that women go through during their pregnancy and motherhood. Nobody can love the way a mother loves her child. Share these heart-touching motherhood poems with your mother to show how much you love her for what she is.

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