Poetry Dedication Project

By Olivia McLeod

DedicationWhen I heard that I had to dedicate this dedication book to someone, and had to pick poems of or about them, I knew right away who my dedication would be to: My mother. My mother, the one who has loved and provided for me since I was born, and has always been there for me. She’s my best friend, and my hope is that, in the poems I have in this book, she will realize how very thankful I am for her and how much I love her.

I LOVE YOU, MOTHER"I love you, mother," said little John. Then, forgetting his work, his cap went on, And he was off to the garden swing,And left her the water and wood to bring.

"I love you, mother," said rosy Nell—"I love you more than tongue can tell." But she teased and pouted full half the day Till her mother was glad when she went to play.

"I love you, mother," said little Fan; "To-day I'll help you all I can;How glad I am that school doesn't keep." So she rocked the baby till it fell asleep.

Then slipping softly she took the broom And swept the floor and dusted the room. Busy and happy all the day was she, Helpful and cheerful as a child should be.

"I love you, mother," again they said, Three little children going to bed.How do you think that mother guessed Which of them really loved her best? —JOY ALLISON.

“I Love You, Mother” is a poem that was published in the year of 1898 by a woman named Joy Allison. This poem focuses on three young children that tell their mother they love her, but do their actions say the same? The first child is little John who, although he says he loves his mom, he forgets about his chores and helping his mother, leaving all the work for her to complete herself. The next child to tell her mother that she loves her is Nell. Although Nell remembers to do her chores before going off to play, she complains and whines about doing them the whole time, making her mother relieved when she finally did go play. Finally, along comes little Fan. Not only does she love her mother, but she also shows it with her actions. Not only did she help her mom with all that needed done, but she also went about it happily, and without complaint. When it comes time for the three children to head off to bed, they tell their mother once more how much they love her. Although I’m sure she didn’t doubt that they loved her, but it was obvious to her which child actually loved her most. In this beautiful “a-a-b-b” structured poem, the writer is trying to get one simple point across. We can say that we love our parents all we want, but our actions speak louder than our words. Are we showing them that we love them in every way possible? If I were to guess on the attitude of the writer in this poem, I would say she could possibly have written these words out of frustration. She might have written this after a day of going through a very similar situation, or possibly even witnessing something along these lines. A mother not only wants to be told that they’re loved, but they want to be shown that as well. What are we doing to show our mothers that we love them?

Sleepyhead“Get out of head, SleepyheadIt’s time to start the day!”My stubborn mother exclaimsIn the loudest possible way.“You’re burning daylight!Time to help me clean!”She’ll normally say.

I moan, I groan, I roll overI try to block out her voiceIt’s not long before I realizeI simply have no choice.

I slowly get up, I reluctantly startOn the things I need to do.Not long into the dayI smile and say“Thanks for the wake-up call, MomI love you!” -Olivia McLeod

Here’s the thing about me: I am not a morning person. However, once I am up, I am glad I am, because I feel so much more self-worth. The problem is getting up. If I have to go to work in the morning, I will force myself out of bed, but if I have a free morning, you might as well forget it! However, good old mom never fails to give me a hard time about sleeping in. While I’m still working on getting up earlier, this is one of those simple things that I want to thank my mom for. But rather than mentioning it in passing, I decided to center an entire poem around it. While my poetic skills and extremely limited, I conveyed it in the best way I knew possible.Mom, I know it’s an understatement to say that I am a pain to wake up in the morning, but I want to thank you for taking the time to do so. While I should have enough will-power to do so myself, it’s obvious that I still struggle in that area. I know it becomes frustrating for you, but by you taking time out of your schedule to drag my lazy bones out of bed, I know that you care. Through the simple things, you are teaching me to become a better person, a harder worker, and even a better wife someday in the future. Thank you for the little things you do, Mom!

Mother o’ MineIf I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mineI 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’ mineI 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, 0 mother o’ mine! -Rudyard Kipling

Mother o’ Mine is a short poem that was written by Rudyard Kipling in 1891. This poem is a very simple poem that expresses how deep Kipling believes his mother’s love for him. It’s quite obvious by reading it just how close of a relationship he has with his mother. While he addresses this poem towards her, I sincerely believe that that is how we should all feel about our mothers. More importantly, our mothers should agree with every line that is written in this “a-b-a-b” structured classic. “If I were drowned in the deepest sea/I know whose tears would come down to me”. Would my mother cry if something were to happen to me? I should hope she would! No one wants their mother to be indifferent about their well-being. There’s no love like a mother’s love. But in order to achieve a close relationship with your mother, so as to ensure that she is not relieved when you are not around, she needs to be treated right, and know she is appreciated and loved. I am inclined to think that Kipling covered all those areas with his mother, which brings me to what I think is the main idea of this poem: Don’t let your mother go unappreciated! Show her love, and she’ll give you an unconditional love in return. This is why I believe that the tone that Kipling sets in this poem is one of confidence. He most certainly hasn’t taken his mother for granted, and as a result he has no doubt that she will be there for him no matter what. Never giving up on him, never stop loving him, never stop having his back. This is the kind of relationship that I want to have with my mother, and I am working at it with every passing day.

This Lazy BeastThe lazy beast inside meComes home from work and sighsShe wants nothing but to lay around As the rest of the day flies by.

Not worried about her messy roomOr her schoolwork needing done.This lazy beast simply wantsTo lay out in the sun.

Out comes malicious MotherAnd stabs my lazy beastAwakening a spirit inside meThe spirit I like the least!

Mother tells me to get upThere’s so much that needs doneMy lazy beast has lost this fight;My Mother, she has won.

I am so thankful for MotherFor she helps me to seeThe harder I work all day longThe happier I will be!

So listen to this spiritAnd your lazy beast ignore;For it’s the spirit of hard workThat shapes your character more! -Olivia McLeod

I chose to write this poem simply to give a simple life lesson mixed with a little humor. Upon writing this with my mother in mind, I chose to hit on something that I believe every teenager deals with: Laziness. While it’s easy to lie around, watch TV, and eat chips all day, at the end of the day, you will feel a sense of emptiness inside you. That emptiness is due to the fact that you feel you have no self-worth; like you have no purpose in this life. I speak from experience. I also speak from experience when I say this: That feeling will lessen the harder you work. If you are up and about getting things done, and lightening someone else’s load, you may be tired by the end of the day, but I guarantee you will be happier, and have a better sense of self. Why did I choose to address other teens when I wrote this for my mother? The answer is very simple: My mother taught me that life lesson, and I have no doubt that she is proud of me for grasping that concept. I try my best to put it to action as well. I’m sure every good, hard-working mother has tried to pass this truth on to their children as well, and we would be wise to heed to their instruction.

My Mother Who fed me from her gentle breast,And hushed me in her arms to rest,And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?My Mother.When pain and sickness made me cry,Who gazed upon my heavy eye,And wept, for fear that I should die? My Mother.Who dressed my doll in clothes so gay,And fondly taught me how to play,And minded all I had to say?My Mother.Who ran to help me when I fell,And would some pretty story tell,Or kiss the place to make it well? My Mother.And can I ever cease to beAffectionate and kind to thee,Who was so very kind to me? My Mother. -Anne Taylor

I can think of no better title than the one proclaimed right here. In “My Mother”, Anne Taylor chooses to write about all that her mother has done for and been to her, from birth until present. The extraordinary “a-a-a-b” rhyme scheme in this poem asks a question in every stanza, and is answered by the simple two words “My Mother”. Rather than directing all of her writing towards her mom, the speaker and author, who is one and the same, aims her first three questions towards none other than the reader. Although some may argue otherwise, my belief is that Taylor’s intention for this poem is to make her readers think. What is it that she is trying to make us think about? Most of us have good family situations; that includes having a mother that loves us and takes care of us. Have we ever thought about all that they have done for us? Have we ever stopped, just for a moment, and considered all the patience and sacrifice it took for them to raise us? If so, have we ever thanked them? Sure, thanking someone verbally is great and all, but what about thanking them with our actions? In the last stanza, the author finally directs her question towards the object of the poem: Her mother. In it, she asks her mother how she could ever be anything other than kind and affectionate towards her mother, due to the fact that her mother was so kind to her. After reading and thinking about that stanza a couple of times, a convicting thought struck me. As I’m sure everyone has at some point in their life, there have been times that I have gotten smart or exasperated with my mother. But in this poem, Taylor is saying that there’s no way she could ever be anything but kind to the woman who raised her and loved her! So how can I be anything but kind and caring towards my beloved mother? It’s amazing how a simple poem can change one’s perspective and change of thinking in just one question.

MomWhen I took my baby stepsShe was by my sideWhen I ditched the training wheelsShe cheered my entire ride.

On my first day of high schoolShe took pictures galore!And, despite my complaints and protestsShe dropped me off at the door.

During my first heartbreakShe never asked or priedJust held me close and stroked my hairAs I laid there and cried.

Through good times and the badShe’s here, and here she’ll stay.My mother means the world to meI thank God for her every day! -Olivia McLeod

Much like Anne Taylor’s poem “My Mother”, I wrote this poem with the intention of describing how my mother has always been there for me from the time I was an infant, and no matter where I am in the world, she’ll always be there supporting me, loving me, and caring for me. That’s the thing about mothers. Ninety-nine percent of them love their children unconditionally, and absolutely nothing can weaken their love for their child. Yes, they get frustrated with them at times, yes their kids disappoint them. But that never takes away from how much they love them! The reason why I wrote this poem for my mother is because, and I may be wrong about this, I don’t believe that she realized how much she really does for me. It’s just second nature for her to provide for me, comfort me, care for me, and instruct me in what is right and what is wrong. So, once again, I want to thank her for her sacrifice, for all the years that she has taken care of me without any thought of her own needs. It never ceases to amaze me how very selfless she is, and how very selfish I can be!Thank you, Mom.

Rock Me to Sleep Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, Make me a child again just for tonight! Mother, come back from the echoless shore, Take me again to your heart as of yore; Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;— Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!

Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years! I am so weary of toil and of tears,— Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,— Take them, and give me my childhood again! I have grown weary of dust and decay,— Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away; Weary of sowing for others to reap;— Rock me to sleep, mother – rock me to sleep!

Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you! Many a summer the grass has grown green, Blossomed and faded, our faces between: Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain, Long I tonight for your presence again. Come from the silence so long and so deep;— Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!

Over my heart, in the days that are flown, No love like mother-love ever has shone; No other worship abides and endures,— Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours: None like a mother can charm away pain From the sick soul and the world-weary brain. Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep;— Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!

Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, Fall on your shoulders again as of old; Let it drop over my forehead tonight, Shading my faint eyes away from the light; For with its sunny-edged shadows once more Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore; Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;— Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!

Mother, dear mother, the years have been long Since I last listened your lullaby song: Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem Womanhood’s years have been only a dream. Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, With your light lashes just sweeping my face, Never hereafter to wake or to weep;— Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! -Elizabeth Akers Allen

Elizabeth Akers Allen is not only the author of this poem, but also the speaker in the poem. “Rock Me To Sleep” is being addressed to Allen’s mother. Hints such as the lines “Mother, come back from the echoless shores” and “Long I tonight for your presence again” lead me to believe that her mother is, in fact, in Heaven. In this poem, the speaker is a hurting soul. She is a grown woman who has gone through much heartache and pain, and is longing for her younger days. The days when her mother made everything right simply with the singing of a lullaby, or rocking her to sleep. It is apparent, in reading this, that Allen had a very special bond with her mother. However, although it does not say in the poem, I can’t help but wonder: Does the speaker have any regrets? Could she have maybe treated her mother better while she was still here on this earth? There’s a good possibility that that may be true. Mother, I chose this poem to add into my dedication book to you for one simple reason: I don’t want to have any regrets. I want to tell you now, while I still have a chance, how very much I love you and don’t know what I would do if something were to happen to you. God forbid that anything ever would, but I want you to know that I one hundred percent agree with the speaker in this poem when she says “No love like mother-love ever has shone//Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours”. You are all those things and so much more. I hope to never take you for granted. I want you to know that no matter where life takes me as I transform from young lady to woman, you will always hold a special place in my heart, and I love you so much.

A Mother’s LoveAs steady as a rain fallOn a drowsy dayAs gentle as rustling leaves As their trees subtly sway. As frequent as a sunriseWhen birds faintly chirp their songAnd as beautiful as spring timeAfter waiting all winter long.

As comforting as an angelIs my mother’s love to meShe helps me to become All God wants me to be. -Olivia McLeod

This poem was all about similes. What could I use to compare a mother’s love? Nothing comes even remotely close, yet I had to try. While in the process of writing this, I asked myself one question: What words describe my mother? Dozens of revering words flooded into my mind, but all seemed inadequate. What words describe my mother’s love? Still difficult to describe in my limited vocabulary, but I tried my best. Steady, gentle, frequent, beautiful, comforting: these are the words I chose to use. Another word I failed to use is limitless. No matter what mistakes I make, no matter how many times I let her down, my mother’s love for me will never fade away. Not because I’m anything great, but because she is. My mom is the kindest, funniest, most forgiving woman I know, and no words found in the dictionary can describe her unconditional love. Mom, thank you for loving me no matter what I do to hurt you and disappoint you. I would be in idiot to not want to be like you someday, and I hope that someday I will be able to love with the kind of love you hold in your heart. I love you!

Mother Of MineHow do I tell you, from this daughterOh mother of mine, who couldn't have worked harderTo make my life, as best as could beHow much your loved, for loving me

Things you wanted, so many timesYou put aside, to help me and mineEven when I was growing upA back you never turned, a door you never shut

How do I tell you, how much this meansOh mother of mine, who always beamsWith a loving heart, with open armsCaring for all, with all your charms

You made life, so very goodFor me you did, all you couldYou cared for me, through all bad timesYour loved so much, oh mother of mine -Betty Halverson

Out of all the poems I have chosen, this one best describes my mother. When Betty Halverson put pen to paper and wrote this “a-a-b-b” structured masterpiece, her theme was clear. With the author as the speaker, and with her mother as the addressee, it’s not very difficult to figure out what she is trying to convey. In a nutshell, Halverson is telling her mother that all her hard work has not gone unnoticed, her sacrifice not taken for granted. She loves her mother, and is thankful for everything she has done for her. “Mother of Mine” does not contain any type of symbolism, and why should it? What can one compare to the unconditional love and sacrifice of a mother? The answer is obvious: Nothing! The saying “There is no love like a Mother’s love” is so true. Halverson has captured that truth and, in the best way possible, puts it in writing. Rather than symbolism, she uses words such as “charm” and “loving heart” to describe her mother, and all that she is. I love this poem in its entirety, but if I had to pick a favorite line or lines, it would be this: “Things you wanted, so many times/You put aside, to help me and mine”. That’s something we often fail to think about. We have so many needs, so many wants, but so do our mothers! However, instead of whining and demanding what they want, our moms lay aside their desires in order to fulfill ours. The best definition of love that I’ve ever found is this: “The willing, sacrificial giving of oneself for the benefit of others, without thought of return”. Oh, how that describes so many mothers, including mine! Halverson surely dis her mom justice when writing this poem, which is why I chose this for you, Mom. This poem describes you so explicitly, that I can think of no better way to say it. I love you, Mom!

I Could HaveI take you for grantedMore often than not;Don’t take it personally!You see I don’t realize How blessed I amThat God gave you to me.

I could have been bornTo a teenage girlWho couldn’t provide for her child.I could be inSome foster careWith a heart that’s bitter and wild.

When you knew I was in youYou could've ended my life.I couldn't have takenMy first breathAnd someday become a wife.

But I was born to you;A mother loving, patient, and kindI know I don't tell you nearly enoughThat you're the best mom one will find! -Olivia McLeod

Mom, by now I’m sure you have noticed a theme in these poems, and it is that of thankfulness. When I began writing this final poem, I thought of where I could be, who I could’ve been born to, or if I would even be alive if it weren’t for you. As I pondered this, tears started to form in my eyes, but they were quickly replaced by an overwhelming gratitude that God blessed me by making you to be my mom. I know it’s very cliché, but you’re the best mom one can ask for. Out of all the women in the world, I have the best one in the world, and no one is paying me to say that; I sincerely believe that with all my heart. How does one put into words an unspeakable thankfulness and love, when every word in the dictionary falls so short, seems so inadequate. If there was one thing I could tell others my age and younger, it would be this: Don’t take your mother for granted! You say you love her, now show her you love her! Actions speak so much louder than words, so help her out, write her letters, give her hugs, do anything that crosses your mind that you think shows her how much you love her. And, as I so often try my best to do, tell her you love her every chance you get, and thank her for all that she does!

While writing these explications and poems, I started to develop a new appreciation for poetry. Before this unit in Creative Writing, I cared nothing for poems, and found them hard to understand and difficult to follow. But I’ve realized that sometimes poetry can get a point across that stories cannot. So much thought and study has gone into every line of a poem, therefore it’s not the easiest job on the planet either. Though I never thought I would say this a little over a month ago, I have to admit that I enjoyed this poetry unit, and learned a lot in making this dedication book.

Bibliography I Love You, Mother Author: Joy AllisonPage Title: The Baldwin ProjectCompany: Yesterday’s ClassicsURL: http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php ?author=skinner&book=verse1&story=love

Mother o’ MineAuthor: Rudyard KiplingPage Title: About.comCompany: New York Times CompanyURL: http://poetry.about.com/library/weekly/ blkiplingmother.htm

Mother of MineAuthor: Betty HalversonPage Title: Poem HunterCompany: PoemHunter.comURL: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mo ther-of-mine/

My MotherAuthor: Anne TaylorPage Title: Mothers.netCompany: Australian Media Pty LtdURL: http://www.mothers.net/mymother2.htm

Rock Me to Sleep, MotherAuthor: Elizabeth Akers AllenPage Title: Poetry FoundationCompany: Poetry MagazineURL: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem /182732