Poems about Mothers: Stevie Smith

In my favourite English bookshop, Mr B’s Emporium of Reading Delights in Bath, I always seem to come out with cards as well as books. It’s the only place that’s true, and it’s because they carry a wonderful series of poetry masquerading as greeting cards.

Candlestick Press produces themed collections of poems. Among the ‘cards’ I’ve carried out of Mr B’s are Ten Poems about Mothers, Ten Poems about Puddings, Ten Poems about Bicycles and Ten Poems about Aunts. Small and perfectly formed.

Ten poems about mothers - gorgeous collection! | Sacraparental.com

You can order any of the Ten Poems ‘cards’ from Candlestick Press.

Over the next few weeks I’d like to share some with you from the Ten Poems about Mothers collection (and perhaps other poems about mothers and motherhood – do you have any favourites to recommend or to write a guest post about?). You can buy the set here, and follow links throughout this series to discover more of these poets’ works.

To start with, here is the shortest poem in the collection:

Human Affection

Mother, I love you so.
Said the child, I love you more than I know.
She laid her head on her mother’s arm,
And the love between them kept them warm.

Stevie Smith (1902-1971)

Do you have any favourites to recommend?

You can see all the Sacraparental posts featuring poetry here.

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5 comments on “Poems about Mothers: Stevie Smith”

  1. kiwienzian Reply

    I love ‘Being a Poet’, by Jenny Bonholdt. I don’t (and can’t) have children of my own (I’m too sick for us to be able to care for a child), but I shared it with my oldest friend, mother of four young kids, and she loved it, too. Here it is:

    Being a Poet

    Yesterday I bought
    a blender – blue – from
    Briscoes, just like
    Marion’s. Today
    we’re dealing with the big
    issues, like: “How the World
    Began” and
    “Can We Have Fruit Loops
    For Breakfast?”
    Friends ask
    what I’m reading.
    By the bed is “Go, Dog, Go.”
    We looked at it this morning
    just before our fight
    over the nature of
    Weetbix. “But it’s soggy
    every morning,” I hear myself say,
    “that’s just what Weetbix does
    that’s just it’s way.”

    Jenny Bonholdt (1960 – )

  2. Pingback: Poems about Mothers: Fleur Adcock | Sacraparental

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