I dedicate this project to you. You have been withme through a lot of hard times and no matter howhard it has been you will still be there for meand with me.
happy mother’s day,For on this day is the day you reminisce,remembering that day when you heldyour baby in your arms seeing her smile.your baby’s first steps and her tumblesand cries, picking her up and kissing herboo-boos.Sending her off to school on her firstday, waving good-bye to her as sheboards the bus.Watching her grow and stretch becominga teenager, you listen to all her criesof heart break and her laughter of how her daywent.Taking pictures of her first prom withher boyfriend that you absolutely do not likebut accept him because she accepts him.You clap for her on her graduation dayhugging and crying for her.The day you give her away to a husbandthat you and she enjoy.Holding her hand as she gives birth toher little bundle of joy thinking thatone day she will be in your shoesListen, watching and taking care of herlittle one.You smile up at your little bundle of joy,remembering the last day with her, asshe hold your hand smiling down at you,tears flowing saying “happy mother’s
I have wrote this poem because one daybefore mother’s day, I was sitting on thecouch thinking about how you have andwill be going through several things inthis poem and thought about how youwill feel. Writing this poem has made mesee how you have felt going throughsome of these things and I canunderstand how it is very hard to dealwith this while still holding it together.So I sat down and thought about how youseen my first steps and heard my criesabout my troubles, putting me on thebus the first day of school, and my firstdance with a boy you really didn’t likebut liked him anyway because I did, andwhen it comes time to have my own littlefamily you will always be there when Ineed you. I wrote this for you so whenyou look back on this poem you willnever forget the good and bad times wehad together and how we stood themout together no matter the situation.
This is no fairytale joke, this is life.You run away from dreams and hopes, thinking these are a fairytalejoke.You cover your face wishing it all away, wishing this was not afairytale jokeYou realize there is no prince waiting to sweep you off your feet,there is nohappy ending with people dancing andsinging.You sit in your bed waiting for this fairytale to start but yourealize this isa fairytale joke.You get out of your bed wading through the mess, making best of aterrible day to come.this isn’t a fairytale there will be no prince at the end of the streetand happy singing people dancing.This story will end with a happy ending, with a prince and singingpeople, this isn’t a fairytale joke.There will be people barking orders at you, stomping you into theground but this isn’t a fairytale joke.you tell yourself this isn’t a fairytale joke, you smile skipping yourway through this fairytale joke.
This poem reminds me a lot of you, there is a lot of times Isee you struggle with work and taking care of two sickparents that the dreams you have seem fake and that lifeis nothing but a big joke but you deserve nothing lessthan what you truly deserve. You deserve a lot more; youhave helped lots of people and go out of your way to dolittle stuff for your work. You think that when you move,you are giving up everything but you don’t realize thatyou are gaining your fairytale! You are not losinganything you are gaining, there will be a prince one dayfor you and there are people that will be happier for whatyou do for them! You get to spend more time with yourfamily and sister and nephews, even though they get onyour nerves, you still enjoy being around them. This isn’ta fairytale joke, this life you are going to make all overagain and it will have a happy ending!
Oh little Pixie I see how you jump fromtree to tree spying and sneaking around.You ease drop in on our round about laughter andsway.You giggle at our little jokes, wondering why arethese strange aliens this way.Night falls you stretch and yawn mentally wavinggood bye to these aliens as they tromp away.Hopping among trees making your way back tothat hanging tree house.Lying upon your tiny swaying bed, you fall asleepdreaming the day away.
I wrote this poem for you because sometimes you look atothers and wish you had what they have. Your stillgrateful for what you have, because you know that whatyou have is more than what these other people have. You jlook at all their fancy things but know they are not for youbecause they are not who you are. You do a lot of greatthings, but they become everyday routine that you go outand look for other things even though they may bestrange for you, you still do them and like doing what youdo even though their alien to you. I also wrote this poemfor you because I know how much you like fairy’s andhappy endings. You are a really great person, you arelike the little pixie, she cannot see how great the thingsshe does but everyone else can! You might not thinkpeople see you but they do and the things you do aremost appreciated!
When there are dark days a bright lightshines, guiding you, leading you awayfrom your troubles,Reach out; grab itTaking a hold onto that bright lightletting it guide you to a safe placewhere there is happiness and joy.When there is trouble you reach outtaking that bright light letting it fillyou with hope, joy, and happinessLetting you know you can push andreach through the heavy darkness.Through the darkness this bright lightshines, take it, and grab it.
When you are having a hard day, you forget to grab a holdof something that makes you happy, when you are having ahard day think of this poem, grab a hold of that littlesomething that makes you happy and forget whatever ismaking you unhappy. Let the little light fill you and let itwash away your troubles so you can go the rest of the daywithout getting upset. If you get upset again just grabthat light and hold on to it will give you more strength toget through it. Don’t let anybody bring you down or washthat light away keep hold of it until you’re sure you feelbetter don’t let it go until you are sure. Whenever you getmad take hold of that light and remember to let it go whenyou feel better. That light will always be there for youeven if you think your alone. Hold you happy thought, mom!
Mothers and fathers all gather around.The time to mate is now abounding.Little ones we must make to protect our lands.Yes, this is a chore, but we know it is left in our hands.Hear ye, Hear ye, all you plants.Time to wake, dust off the snow and spread your leaves to the warm spring sun.Let your small baby bulbs open up and receive the loving hugs that only mother sun can bestow.As you stretch higher and higher, a baby no more you will be.A beautiful strong flower, you will arise from the earth, your glowing beauty for all to see.Wake up; wake up all you dead trees.Your branches that hang so low from the harsh winter’s snowLet them rise like a mighty anthem to the warm spring glow of a bright shiny sun.Spring into action and sprout your evergreen leaves, rejoice with all birds, bees andother trees.Spring has come and winter has left so come on everybody lets enjoy it atlas.
I wrote this poem for you because I know howmuch you look forward to spring every year; howthe flowers bloom and the birds chirp and howpeople take their dog out with them for a walk.How you like the sun beams and the trees thatsway with the wind, it might rain every now andagain, but you still look forward to spring everyyear. I wrote this poem according to what you lookforward to every spring. You like how the straycats pounce about the street playing and tacklingeach other in the street, coming by our housegiving us presents and how the lilacs bloom neargrams house and the daffodils bloom near ourhouse. So I hope you like this little poem aboutspring that I wrote for you and hope you enjoyevery spring from now till forever.
I sailed in my dreams to the Land of NightWhere you were the dusk-eyed queen,And there in the pallor of moon-veiled lightThe loveliest things were seen...A slim-necked peacock sauntered thereIn a garden of lavender hues,And you were strange with your purple hairAs you sat in your amethyst chairWith your feet in your hyacinth shoes.Oh, the moon gave a bluish lightThrough the trees in the land of dreams and night.I stood behind a bush of yellow-greenAnd whistled a song to the dark-haired queen...
The Gwendolyn Bennett‟s poem Fantasy, she uses two specialtechniques in her poem. First, the imagery of the poem putsus in the garden room of a queen. She is “sitting in heramethyst chair” with her “hyacinth shoes.” The poem alsotakes place at night in a dream. “I sailed in my dreams tothe land of night” and “there in the pallor of moon-veiledlight.” Second, the tone of this poem possibly relates to ayoung shy lover. “I stood behind a bush of yellow-green andwhistled a song to the dark-haired queen. Finally, GwendolynBennett also uses a Shakespearean Rhyming scheme. At theend of the poem is a couplet, “yellow-green” and “dark-haired queen.”I picked this poem for you because you always speakin a way that uses a lot of imagery. Even when you go towork you dress in many colors. When you take care of yourclients your shy at first then you open up and all you workwith seem to open up to you. Most of your clients are atnight and I know you make them comfortable before youleave. I‟ve heard you many times say “sweet dreams.”
The mountain and the squirrelHad a quarrel;And the former called the latter „Little Prig.‟Bun replied,„You are doubtless very big;But all sorts of things and weatherMust be taken in together,To make up a yearAnd a sphere.And I think it no disgraceTo occupy my place.If Im not so large as you,You are not so small as I,And not half so spry.Ill not deny you makeA very pretty squirrel track;Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;If I cannot carry forests on my back,Neither can you crack a nut.‟
This poem is about a mountain and a squirrel. Themountain thinks he is much more important than thesquirrel. The mountain calls the squirrel a “little prig,”which means self-righteous or irritating manner. The squirreltells the mountain he is very big but even though the squirrelis small he is still just as important. The two performimportant jobs. “If I‟m not so large as you, you are not sosmall as I.” Sometimes, mom, I have heard you say that yourjob is not important. What you do is little compared to whatother people do. Your clients depend on you to help themwith everything in their lives; otherwise they would not beable to stay in their homes. I know you love this poem andalso the writer of it. You might just think you‟re the squirrel,but in you client‟s eyes and mine you are a mighty mountain.I know I would not have been able to complete school if ithad not been you who helped me and encouraged me throughit.
You too, my mother, read my rhymesFor love of unforgotten times,And you may chance to hear once moreThe little feet along the floor.
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote this poem especially for his mom.This was his first poem he dedicated it to her. Stevenson thoughtthis poem was short and unimportant, but his mom encouraged himto keep on trying. His passion was poetry. He wrote many poems toher about the “love of unforgotten times.” His memories of thosetimes encouraged him to write more “and she may chance to hearonce more.” His poem starts out “you too, my mother, read myrhymes.” Stevenson knew his mom was his greatest critic. You aremy greatest critic and that is why I rely on you to help me proofread and give me hints on how I can make my writing and poemsbetter. He listened to her advice about his poems. Others mighthave thought this poem short and bland, but not his mother andStevenson appreciated that input, just like I appreciate your input,my sweet mom and mentor. The poems I have written to you arepoems that target what you like. Each poem pinpoints ideas,scenery, tone and imagery that you enjoy. When I said “Oh, I can‟tdo this.” You told me to take a break and come back and take afresher look at it. You never let me quit. I tried again and theideas did come to me in a richer and fresher way. I write my poemsof “love of unforgotten times.”
From Breakfast on through all the dayAt home among my friends I stay,But every night I go abroadAfar into the land of Nod.All by myself I have to go,With none to tell me what to do--All alone beside the streamsAnd up the mountain-sides of dreams.The strangest things are there for me,Both things to eat and things to see,And many frightening sights abroadTill morning in the land of Nod.Try as I like to find the way,I never can get back by day,Nor can remember plain and clearThe curious music that I hear
This poem by Robert Louis Stevenson is full of imagery, a generaltheme of dreaming and a scene that takes place in yet anotherdream. The writer is bored with his real life, he states “FromBreakfast on through all the day At home among my friends I stay”,but when he lays his head down to rest he visits a place that holds“both things to eat and things to see” some are “frightening” andsomething‟s are “curious”. Even though this place is strange tohim, it is calming and no matter how hard “try as I like to find theway, I never can get back by day.” When he wakes up he goes backto his humdrum life and wishes he could stay “In the land of nod”.I remember you reading this poem to me when I wasyoung. When I was scared and would have a bad dream and couldnot get back to sleep, you would say “think of The Land of Nod”. Iknew that land was not scary because you explained this poem tome. It helped me get to sleep at night. When I was working on thisdedication to you I had to put this poem in my works because I knowyou would appreciate it. After all these years I still remember “TheLand of Nod.”
Now come the purple garments, now the white;Now move the vagrant beds among the disinfected halls;Now stretch the opaque hose between the antiseptic rooms:I waken: and she looks at me.Now droops the freshly propped-up pillow like a ghost,And like a ghost she sets it right for me.Now lie the intravenous tubules by the door,And all the bodys ills stare openly at me.Now drifts the slim physician on, and leavesHis clipboard hanging like a thought in front of me.Now folds the young nurse all her aprons up,And slips her lovely bosom in a waiting car:And so desire folds itself as well, and slipsInto my arms, and then is lost in me.
The poem “The Nurse” by Michael Blumenthal fits you like a well-worn smock, mom. Mr. Blumenthal captures the perfect picture ofa nurse who is on duty at a hospital. He shows several images toprove this point: white garments, disinfected halls, antisepticrooms, intravenous tubules and slim physicians. All these imageswould be seen in a patients room. He sets the theme of a nursegoing to work, doing her days work, then getting into the car to gohome. “The young nurse all her aprons up” , “slips her lovelybosom in a waiting car” show her leaving her shift to go home forthe night. A sad tone can be felt in this poem. Many patients missthe nurse who waits on them. “Into my arms, and then is lost tome.”Mom, I think you know why I picked this poem for you. Theimagery, tone and theme fit you and what you have done all theseyears. Not only do I rely on you but many of you clients miss youwhen you are not with them. I know you are giving up a lot whenwe move after grad, and I know your clients will miss you greatly,but I want to let you know I appreciate you and the sacrifice youare about to make.
All images by Ashley Allen; May 18, 2013.Fable by Ralph Waldo Emerson; www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/20160;May 10, 2013.Fairytale Joke by Ashley Allen; may 11th, 2013.Fantasy by Gwendolyn Bennett; www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/19693;May 10, 2013.Little Pixie by Ashley Allen; May 6, 2013.Mother‟s Day by Ashley Allen; May 12, 2013.Spring Has Come by Ashley Allen; April 1st, 2013.The Land Of Nod by Robert Louis Stevenson;www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/15242; May 10, 2013.The Nurse by Michael Blumenthal;www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/22425; May 10,2013.That Bright Light by Ashley Allen; May 12, 2013.To My Mother by Robert Louis Stevenson;www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/MID/19660; may 10, 2013.