Motherhood Poem by Eleanor Agnes Lee
Motherhood
Mary,the Christ long slain,passed silently,
Following the children joyous astir
Under the cedrus and the olive tree,
Pausing to let their laughter float to her--
Each voice an echo of a voice more dear,
She saw a little Christ in every face.
Then came another woman gliding near
To watch the tender life which filled the place.
And Mary sought the woman's hand and spoke:
' I know thee not, yet know thy memory tossed
With all a thousand dreams their eyes evoke
Who bring to thee a child beloved and lost.
' I ,too, have rocked my Little One.
And He was fair !
Oh, fairer than the fairest sun
And , like its rays through amber spun,
His sun-bright hair.
Still I can see it shine and shine.'
Even so, the woman said, 'was mine.'
' His ways were ever darling ways'-
And Mary smiled -
So soft, so clinging ! Glad relays
Of love were all His precious days.
My Little Child !
My vanished star ! My music fled ! '
' Even so was mine,' the woman said.
And Mary whispered : Tell me, thou
Of thine.' And she :
' Oh, mine was rosy as a bough
Blooming with roses, sent, somehow,
To bloom for me !
His balmy fingers left a thrill
Deep in my breast that warms me still. '
Then she gazed down some wilder,darker hour,
And said -when Mary questioned, not knowing :
Who art thou, mother of so sweet a flower?'--
' I am the mother of Iscariot.'
So touchingly penned this song on Motherhood, strong narrative, beautifully rhymed in uneven stanzas.
His balmy fingers left a thrill Deep in my breast that warms me still. Love this...
Hats off to the motherhood and the poetess who had so exquisitely narrated it in this equally fabulous poem. Well deserved classic poem of the Day.
Such a beautiful poem as heavenly as motherhood and so beautifully narrated I am speechless, thanks for sharing 10+++
Beautiful poem on motherhood according to Biblical story of Judas Iscariot
'His balmy fingers left a thrill Deep in my breast that warms me still' - loved the entire poem, these two lines particularly! Congratulations on the poem's selection as the 'Poem of the Day'!
Beautiful porm. We are all the same at birth. It is our deeds as we grow, our living decisions which separate the good the bad and the ugly. I bet Hitler was a cuddly little bear...the rest we know. Great one
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 2:16:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
So soft, so clinging! Glad relays Of love were all His precious days. My Little Child! My vanished star! My music fled! ' ' Even so was mine, ' the woman said.../// motherly affection greatly expressed here
Is this a comments? ? ? Copy paste crap.