Treasure Island

Patricia Kelley

(March 11 1957 / Oklahoma)

We don't always agree


There are times she isn’t always honest with me.
And we don’t always agree.
But, there are times she can be sweeter than a glass of sweet tea.
I don’t always understand her.
Nor does she always understand me.
And sometimes, we can become as distant as the sea.
But, when we both come together it can be as sweet as cherries picked from a cherry tree.
We no longer need a referee.
It can become a sweet memory.
Of a mother and daughter spending, their time together.
When true emotions come together,
The love shared between a mother and daughter.

Submitted: Friday, April 05, 2013
Edited: Thursday, October 10, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Relationships between mother and daughter

Comments about this poem (We don't always agree by Patricia Kelley )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Answering The Usual Questions, Edgar Albert Guest
  2. The Cure, Edgar Albert Guest
  3. The Peace Makers, Tony Adah
  4. amazing grace of nature, thanishq kokare
  5. Copy Paper, Edgar Albert Guest
  6. Autumn Evenings, Edgar Albert Guest
  7. The Lost Purse, Edgar Albert Guest
  8. Mother's Party Dress, Edgar Albert Guest
  9. The Comedian, Edgar Albert Guest
  10. The Evening Prayer, Edgar Albert Guest

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]