Motherhood, a celebration

This page is to celebrate Motherhood, which passes all boundaries of nation and time, breaches the walls of emotion, and has import for all -in one way or another!

My hope is that the sentiments within this page will inspire us to be more nurturing and caring; and to appreciate those who nurtured and cared for us.

Speak gently! 'tis a little thing
Dropp'd in the heart's deep well;
The good, the joy, that it may bring
Eternity shall tell.
~G. W. Langford: Speak gently.

A baby's hands, like rosebuds furled
Whence yet no leaf expands,
Ope if you touch, though close upcurled,
A baby's hands.
Then, fast as warriors grip their brands
When battle's bolt is hurled,
They close, clenched hard like tightening bands.
No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled
Match, even in loveliest lands,
The sweetest flowers in all the world-
A baby's hands.
~Swinburne

Treasure

I am rich today, a baby ran to meet me,
And put her tiny hand within my own
And smiled, her rosy lips a flower,
The light within her eyes, from heaven shone.
And when I crossed the fields the birds were singing,
A golden blossom in my pathway lay,
It wasn't much; but, oh, the joy there's in it,
To have a baby smile at you In just that way.
~Marguerite A. Gutschow

Old Mothers

I love old mothers--mothers with white hair
And kindly eyes, and lips grown softly sweet,
With murmured blessings over sleeping babes.
There is a something in their quiet grace
That sparks the calm of Sabbath afternoons;
A knowledge in their deep, unf altering eyes
That far outreaches all philosophy.
Time, with caressing touch about them weaves
The silver-threaded fairy-shawl of age,
While all the echoes of forgotten songs
Seem joined to lend a sweetness to their speech.
Old mothers!--as they pass with slow-timed step,
Their trembling hands cling gently to youth's strength.
Sweet mothers!--as they pass, one sees again
Old garden walks, old roses, and old loves.
~Charles Sarsfield Ross

Motherhood, a celebration

Treasure

Old Mothers

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