I heart mom

It's not surprising that mothers have been on the minds of some of our local poets.

Finding verse and rhyme to express affection for mom becomes very popular at this time of year, and not just in the greeting card industry.

Google trends show that since 2004, in early May each year, there is a spike in the number of searches for "mothers day poems."

Writers at the Yahoo Buzz Index blog analyzed it further in 2007, and found that during the week of Mother's Day, the search for poems about moms jumped 246 percent.

The Yahoo observers also found that 79 percent of those scouring the Internet for mom-related poems were women.

It appears sons may be more inclined to put pen to paper, while daughters search for poetic tributes to moms that are written by others.

The odes to mothers received by the Press Writers Corner have all been penned by men.

Send your Writers Corner submissions to [email protected].

We prefer e-mail submissions, and we ask that you limit the length of your stories and poems. Please include your hometown with your submission.

You can send hard-copies by mail to Maureen Dolan at The Press, 201 Second St., Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, 83814.

And now, we present more poems, stories and essays written by you, our readers.

Dreams leak and drip into the eyes.

You wake with something soft

clenched in fists of stone.

You go forth gently,

feathered step

upon the grass

Clouded curtain softens

and you grasp beyond that haze,

fingers hungry for something solid,

but you are left with moistened skin

and whispers in your hands

These hours are scarred

and mauled each day.

Blackened word

leaves us bushy scribbles,

India ink and

crow's feet weeds,

etched into the sand.

My pages are torn and crumpled,

marked at birth

by darkened spills,

and stains of crooked sketches,

left like twisted balls of skin,

that have fallen from the day.

- Jeff J. Langford, Rathdrum

ANGELS IN DISGUISE

(A salute to the nurses in the oncology ward at KMC who cared for my wife.)

How do you do it

Day out and day in--

Place your own cares aside

And then do it again?

Your level of service

Is there to behold--

But, I wouldn't have believed it

Had I only been told.

I've watched you for days now

So I've more than surmised--

That you truly are angels

In human disguise!

You tend to your charges

So gently with skill--

Poke with a joke,

Draw blood, give a pill.

Yes, it's not just the care,

But the way that it's done--

With the smiles on your faces

All the time "on the run".

You hurry and scurry

To fill every need--

Very seldom fall short,

Most often exceed!

So my prayer for you all

And I say it each night--

Should you ever find yourself

In a similar plight;

That there by the side of your bed

Night and day--

Will be someone who's put

Her/his own cares away.

Someone who's a pro

And ready to serve--

Someone to provide you

With all you deserve!

Someone who your loved ones

Will now more than surmise--

Is truly and angel

In human disguise!

- Tom Kane, Coeur d'Alene

MOTHER

Such a formal title

When I was young

It was always "Mama"

But I grew too old for such a childish address

So it was "Mother" I chose to use

To hide my insecurity

Such a petty thing

For it was Mama who calmed my fears

And it was Mama who washed my wounds

It was Mama who guided my steps

And now, it is Mama we lay to rest

- Paul Willis, Athol

Fantasy in Glitter

Golden yellow fire beams,

streaked across on cloudy seams;

made a heavenly sunny ray,

in the dawn of day.

To startle the forest awake,

a morning sun shines fire on the lake,

creating miniature boats in size,

sparkling gold from the sky.

Watching from the shore I could see,

little sailboats fleeting toward me,

in ripples blown in graceful rows,

thousands of boats sail below.

When clouds floated overhead,

the sailboats were still and dead,

as the winds ceased to blow,

autumn surrendered to the snow.

Now the lake was a misty gray,

snow cut off the foaming waves,

Soon the mountain turned all white,

and day gave way to night.

Now there rose a roaring storm,

and the fire came in lightening form,

tongues of fire lined the clouds,

all the wilderness it enshrouds.

Blazing fire in the sky,

flaring torches waving up high,

a dagger of light flew over me fast,

knifing the heavens right in half.

With a volcanic snap and roar,

thunder shook the earthen floor,

Soon the mighty show was done,

before misty winds the clouds run.

And then overhead clouds raced apart,

to let the sun spear out golden darts,

The tiny boats became alive and well,

bidding the waves silver sparkles swell.

- Patsy Ann Kurrelmeyer, Kellogg

How shall I speak of her?

Her warmth, her softness, her gentle ways

She was my life, my love, my all.

Yet she is gone!

How can that be?

The world is not the same

And ne'er will be.

The sun has set

'Twill never rise again.

So I must wait

'Til He who runs all things

Calls me to join with her again

In that far place

Where all's set right once more

And I'll get back again

My life, my love, my all

- Philip Membury, Coeur d'Alene

THE LADYBUG (ALAS!)

I killed a ladybug today;

A sad and somber thing!

She woke up early in my house,

Convinced that it was spring.

Without a thought I flicked her out,

Believing she would soar.

But now she's belly-up in the rain,

Dead on my porch floor.

- Anna Heisey, Coeur d'Alene

MY TURN

Happy Mother's Day my sweet,

You surely should get off your feet,

I'll clean the house and make the bed,

I'll wash the clothes and bake the bread,

I'll wax the floor and dust the wood,

I'll do each thing the way I should,

I'll rub your neck and wash your back,

I'll bring you all the things you lack,

You are my life and love and friend,

Together we are quite a blend.

- Jeff Simonson, Kellogg