2. I dedicate this project to you. You have been with
me through a lot of hard times and no matter how
hard it has been you will still be there for me
and with me.
3. happy mother’s day,
For on this day is the day you reminisce,
remembering that day when you held
your baby in your arms seeing her smile.
your baby’s first steps and her tumbles
and cries, picking her up and kissing her
boo-boos.
Sending her off to school on her first
day, waving good-bye to her as she
boards the bus.
Watching her grow and stretch becoming
a teenager, you listen to all her cries
of heart break and her laughter of how her day
went.
Taking pictures of her first prom with
her boyfriend that you absolutely do not like
but accept him because she accepts him.
You clap for her on her graduation day
hugging and crying for her.
The day you give her away to a husband
that you and she enjoy.
Holding her hand as she gives birth to
her little bundle of joy thinking that
one day she will be in your shoes
Listen, watching and taking care of her
little one.
You smile up at your little bundle of joy,
remembering the last day with her, as
she hold your hand smiling down at you,
tears flowing saying “happy mother’s
4. I have wrote this poem because one day
before mother’s day, I was sitting on the
couch thinking about how you have and
will be going through several things in
this poem and thought about how you
will feel. Writing this poem has made me
see how you have felt going through
some of these things and I can
understand how it is very hard to deal
with this while still holding it together.
So I sat down and thought about how you
seen my first steps and heard my cries
about my troubles, putting me on the
bus the first day of school, and my first
dance with a boy you really didn’t like
but liked him anyway because I did, and
when it comes time to have my own little
family you will always be there when I
need you. I wrote this for you so when
you look back on this poem you will
never forget the good and bad times we
had together and how we stood them
out together no matter the situation.
5. This is no fairytale joke, this is life.
You run away from dreams and hopes, thinking these are a fairytale
joke.
You cover your face wishing it all away, wishing this was not a
fairytale joke
You realize there is no prince waiting to sweep you off your feet,
there is no
happy ending with people dancing and
singing.
You sit in your bed waiting for this fairytale to start but you
realize this is
a fairytale joke.
You get out of your bed wading through the mess, making best of a
terrible day to come.
this isn’t a fairytale there will be no prince at the end of the street
and happy singing people dancing.
This story will end with a happy ending, with a prince and singing
people, this isn’t a fairytale joke.
There will be people barking orders at you, stomping you into the
ground but this isn’t a fairytale joke.
you tell yourself this isn’t a fairytale joke, you smile skipping your
way through this fairytale joke.
6. This poem reminds me a lot of you, there is a lot of times I
see you struggle with work and taking care of two sick
parents that the dreams you have seem fake and that life
is nothing but a big joke but you deserve nothing less
than what you truly deserve. You deserve a lot more; you
have helped lots of people and go out of your way to do
little stuff for your work. You think that when you move,
you are giving up everything but you don’t realize that
you are gaining your fairytale! You are not losing
anything you are gaining, there will be a prince one day
for you and there are people that will be happier for what
you do for them! You get to spend more time with your
family and sister and nephews, even though they get on
your nerves, you still enjoy being around them. This isn’t
a fairytale joke, this life you are going to make all over
again and it will have a happy ending!
7. Oh little Pixie I see how you jump from
tree to tree spying and sneaking around.
You ease drop in on our round about laughter and
sway.
You giggle at our little jokes, wondering why are
these strange aliens this way.
Night falls you stretch and yawn mentally waving
good bye to these aliens as they tromp away.
Hopping among trees making your way back to
that hanging tree house.
Lying upon your tiny swaying bed, you fall asleep
dreaming the day away.
8. I wrote this poem for you because sometimes you look at
others and wish you had what they have. Your still
grateful for what you have, because you know that what
you have is more than what these other people have. You j
look at all their fancy things but know they are not for you
because they are not who you are. You do a lot of great
things, but they become everyday routine that you go out
and look for other things even though they may be
strange for you, you still do them and like doing what you
do even though their alien to you. I also wrote this poem
for you because I know how much you like fairy’s and
happy endings. You are a really great person, you are
like the little pixie, she cannot see how great the things
she does but everyone else can! You might not think
people see you but they do and the things you do are
most appreciated!
9. When there are dark days a bright light
shines, guiding you, leading you away
from your troubles,
Reach out; grab it
Taking a hold onto that bright light
letting it guide you to a safe place
where there is happiness and joy.
When there is trouble you reach out
taking that bright light letting it fill
you with hope, joy, and happiness
Letting you know you can push and
reach through the heavy darkness.
Through the darkness this bright light
shines, take it, and grab it.
10. When you are having a hard day, you forget to grab a hold
of something that makes you happy, when you are having a
hard day think of this poem, grab a hold of that little
something that makes you happy and forget whatever is
making you unhappy. Let the little light fill you and let it
wash away your troubles so you can go the rest of the day
without getting upset. If you get upset again just grab
that light and hold on to it will give you more strength to
get through it. Don’t let anybody bring you down or wash
that light away keep hold of it until you’re sure you feel
better don’t let it go until you are sure. Whenever you get
mad take hold of that light and remember to let it go when
you feel better. That light will always be there for you
even if you think your alone. Hold you happy thought, mom!
11. 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 snow
Let 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 and
other trees.
Spring has come and winter has left so come on everybody lets enjoy it atlas.
12. I wrote this poem for you because I know how
much you look forward to spring every year; how
the flowers bloom and the birds chirp and how
people take their dog out with them for a walk.
How you like the sun beams and the trees that
sway with the wind, it might rain every now and
again, but you still look forward to spring every
year. I wrote this poem according to what you look
forward to every spring. You like how the stray
cats pounce about the street playing and tackling
each other in the street, coming by our house
giving us presents and how the lilacs bloom near
grams house and the daffodils bloom near our
house. So I hope you like this little poem about
spring that I wrote for you and hope you enjoy
every spring from now till forever.
13. I sailed in my dreams to the Land of Night
Where you were the dusk-eyed queen,
And there in the pallor of moon-veiled light
The loveliest things were seen...
A slim-necked peacock sauntered there
In a garden of lavender hues,
And you were strange with your purple hair
As you sat in your amethyst chair
With your feet in your hyacinth shoes.
Oh, the moon gave a bluish light
Through the trees in the land of dreams and night.
I stood behind a bush of yellow-green
And whistled a song to the dark-haired queen...
14. The Gwendolyn Bennett‟s poem Fantasy, she uses two special
techniques in her poem. First, the imagery of the poem puts
us in the garden room of a queen. She is “sitting in her
amethyst chair” with her “hyacinth shoes.” The poem also
takes place at night in a dream. “I sailed in my dreams to
the land of night” and “there in the pallor of moon-veiled
light.” Second, the tone of this poem possibly relates to a
young shy lover. “I stood behind a bush of yellow-green and
whistled a song to the dark-haired queen. Finally, Gwendolyn
Bennett also uses a Shakespearean Rhyming scheme. At the
end of the poem is a couplet, “yellow-green” and “dark-
haired queen.”
I picked this poem for you because you always speak
in a way that uses a lot of imagery. Even when you go to
work you dress in many colors. When you take care of your
clients your shy at first then you open up and all you work
with seem to open up to you. Most of your clients are at
night and I know you make them comfortable before you
leave. I‟ve heard you many times say “sweet dreams.”
15. The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel;
And the former called the latter „Little Prig.‟
Bun replied,
„You are doubtless very big;
But all sorts of things and weather
Must be taken in together,
To make up a year
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy my place.
If I'm not so large as you,
You are not so small as I,
And not half so spry.
I'll not deny you make
A 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.‟
16. This poem is about a mountain and a squirrel. The
mountain thinks he is much more important than the
squirrel. The mountain calls the squirrel a “little prig,”
which means self-righteous or irritating manner. The squirrel
tells the mountain he is very big but even though the squirrel
is small he is still just as important. The two perform
important jobs. “If I‟m not so large as you, you are not so
small as I.” Sometimes, mom, I have heard you say that your
job is not important. What you do is little compared to what
other people do. Your clients depend on you to help them
with everything in their lives; otherwise they would not be
able to stay in their homes. I know you love this poem and
also 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 it
had not been you who helped me and encouraged me through
it.
17. You too, my mother, read my rhymes
For love of unforgotten times,
And you may chance to hear once more
The little feet along the floor.
18. Robert Louis Stevenson wrote this poem especially for his mom.
This was his first poem he dedicated it to her. Stevenson thought
this poem was short and unimportant, but his mom encouraged him
to keep on trying. His passion was poetry. He wrote many poems to
her about the “love of unforgotten times.” His memories of those
times encouraged him to write more “and she may chance to hear
once more.” His poem starts out “you too, my mother, read my
rhymes.” Stevenson knew his mom was his greatest critic. You are
my greatest critic and that is why I rely on you to help me proof
read and give me hints on how I can make my writing and poems
better. He listened to her advice about his poems. Others might
have thought this poem short and bland, but not his mother and
Stevenson appreciated that input, just like I appreciate your input,
my sweet mom and mentor. The poems I have written to you are
poems that target what you like. Each poem pinpoints ideas,
scenery, tone and imagery that you enjoy. When I said “Oh, I can‟t
do this.” You told me to take a break and come back and take a
fresher look at it. You never let me quit. I tried again and the
ideas did come to me in a richer and fresher way. I write my poems
of “love of unforgotten times.”
19. From Breakfast on through all the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.
All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do--
All alone beside the streams
And 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 abroad
Till 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 clear
The curious music that I hear
20. This poem by Robert Louis Stevenson is full of imagery, a general
theme of dreaming and a scene that takes place in yet another
dream. The writer is bored with his real life, he states “From
Breakfast 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” and
something‟s are “curious”. Even though this place is strange to
him, it is calming and no matter how hard “try as I like to find the
way, I never can get back by day.” When he wakes up he goes back
to his humdrum life and wishes he could stay “In the land of nod”.
I remember you reading this poem to me when I was
young. When I was scared and would have a bad dream and could
not get back to sleep, you would say “think of The Land of Nod”. I
knew that land was not scary because you explained this poem to
me. It helped me get to sleep at night. When I was working on this
dedication to you I had to put this poem in my works because I know
you would appreciate it. After all these years I still remember “The
Land of Nod.”
21. 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 body's ills stare openly at me.
Now drifts the slim physician on, and leaves
His 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 slips
Into my arms, and then is lost in me.
22. The poem “The Nurse” by Michael Blumenthal fits you like a well-
worn smock, mom. Mr. Blumenthal captures the perfect picture of
a nurse who is on duty at a hospital. He shows several images to
prove this point: white garments, disinfected halls, antiseptic
rooms, intravenous tubules and slim physicians. All these images
would be seen in a patients room. He sets the theme of a nurse
going to work, doing her days work, then getting into the car to go
home. “The young nurse all her aprons up” , “slips her lovely
bosom in a waiting car” show her leaving her shift to go home for
the night. A sad tone can be felt in this poem. Many patients miss
the nurse who waits on them. “Into my arms, and then is lost to
me.”
Mom, I think you know why I picked this poem for you. The
imagery, tone and theme fit you and what you have done all these
years. Not only do I rely on you but many of you clients miss you
when you are not with them. I know you are giving up a lot when
we 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 you
are about to make.
23. 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.
