Poetry about children and mothers 1. Poems about mothers and children

Arrive home at the end of the year

(Qing) Jiang Shiquan

I love my son endlessly, and I'm glad to go home.

Cold clothes are needle and thread, and letters from home are ink stains.

If you encounter pity, you will ask for it.

I am ashamed of the son of man and dare not complain about the dust.

Jiang Mu

(Song) Wang Anshi

Put mother in the ditch and leave her home in the shade.

When I heard about Du Yu in the moonlight, I was always worried about the North and the South.

1. The old white-headed mother hid her face and cried, and her sleeves were broken. -(Tang) Han Yu's Whose Son

2. The thread in the hand of a kind-hearted mother makes clothes for her wayward son. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring? -(Tang) Meng Jiao's "Wanderer"

2. Poems describing children's love for their mothers

Think of mother

Gong Yu

First frost, Lu Hua, tears wet her skirt, bald and helpless.

Last May, Huang Meiyu Zeng Dian returned to his hometown as a cassock.

Mother's memory

Niruizhuo

The river is too wide to sail, so I don't know if it is safe.

When I am in the dark, I am afraid I will cry more!

mother

Mother is like a lamp in the dark,

When I got lost,

She will guide me to the light.

Mother is like the bright moon on an autumn night.

When I'm lonely and helpless,

She will accompany me and give me confidence.

My mother is always busy for me,

Work hard, no regrets,

On the annual Mother's Day

I want to say, thank you mom!

3. Poetry about mothers and children

Poems about my mother 1, "Paper Boat"-I never refuse to throw away a piece of paper, and keep it all the time-keep it, fold it into a boat and throw it into the sea.

Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind, and some were wet by the waves and stuck to the bow. I still keep folding them up every day, hoping that one of them can only flow where I want it to go.

Mom, if you see a white boat in your dream, don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason. This is your beloved daughter with tears in her eyes. Wanshui Qian Shan, please bring her love and sorrow home.

2, "Oh, Mom" Shu Ting, your pale fingertips are worried about my temple. I can't help holding on to your skirt like when I was a child. My mother tried to keep you from disappearing. Although the morning light has cut my dream into smoke, I still dare not open my eyes for a long time. I still cherish that bright red scarf, for fear that washing it will make it lose your unique warmth. My mother's years are as ruthless as the running water, fearing that my memory will fade. How dare I open its screen easily? I cried to you for a thorn. Now I wear a watch and dare not moan. Mom, I often look up at your photos sadly. Even if I call for penetrating the loess, how dare I disturb your sleep? I dare not show the sacrifice of love like this. Although I wrote many songs for flowers, the sea and the dawn, my sweet, soft and deep memory, mother, is not a torrent, not a waterfall, but a dry well that can't be sung under the shade of flowers and trees. 3. Ode to Mother-This document is dedicated to all mothers in the world, whether they are poor or rich. Mom, can you brush off the frost that has turned gray on your temples with the hands of dead tree skins? I know that the bow of the red ribbon bleached the black hair that I remember for a long time.

Mom, as if nothing had happened, you can still gently twist your loose teeth. Singing songs that are still fresh in my childhood, laughing with tears, memories are snakes of missing.

Draw a word and move forward in a zigzag way. My mother, who has residual pain in this life, still licks my arrogant poison with this cracked tongue core. I will never grow up in front of you, so a vague topic called maternal love is undoubtedly a wanderer and the most stupid person who hurts his mother. You used to be as famous as chrysanthemum, and you are old. There are still some fragrant silk on the edge of the white porcelain bottle.

I have brushed my love heart in sports, but I still can't hide your concern. The crazy autumn wind has begun. Even in the lonely shadow, mom, don't catch cold.

No matter when and where, the sunset depends on a crutch called a child. You, the seeds covered with vegetation on fertile soil are sprouting and growing, and I, at this moment. I just want to hear you call my name.

In a trance, mom, I seem to be back in the yard. By the well where I drew water when I was a child, what "mother" was messy in the wind was that your gray hair and tears had crawled over your old face, your slightly stooped back and your farewell hand. I dare not look back, for fear that I will never leave the house again. I always want to look you in the eye and say angry words. In front of you, I will never grow up, but I grew up and walked a long way, but I ignored your tears. Now I am also a mother. I didn't realize the greatness of maternal love until I watched the children grow up in my arms day by day. But your temples are full of flowers and hair. Going home often is the only small reward I can give you. 5. To Mother (1) Mother, can I sweet-talk in front of you? Is there anything I can't tell you? The fire burned my rope and coat. I have become a man-this fact will definitely surprise you.

My wings are flapping in the sun and shadows you can't see. (2) In the nest you built, under your wings, my flesh and blood is getting fuller and fuller.

I accept your milk, caress and training, and my hair and limbs grow well-proportioned and beautiful under the control of some rules. I lie under your eyes and smile day after day. Your breath tames my blood, and I become shy, calm and full of warmth.

As a result, the trauma and tears of the earth tortured and supported my nerves, and sad music floated inside and outside. (3) You are the church, the voice of God, the calling and eternal light source, while I am humble as dust and evil as a sinner.

I fear the light from heaven, pray and tremble. Your expectations become whips and dams.

You can't hear my dreams or see my visions. You carefully designed clothes, chairs and beds for me, and held my hand tightly until love and tolerance turned against me.

Mom, have you ever seen waves and magma? Have you ever seen a fleeting meteor? Have you ever heard the wolf howl? Have you ever heard the sound of broken bones and nerves? You don't understand why I always wander alone in the wilderness, why I sometimes get carried away with laughter, and sometimes I get depressed. When you find me singing and playing the piano in the middle of the night and flirting with girls, you will be sure that I have gone astray.

(5) set me free! Give me back my energy! Give back my original desire! Give me a fresh feeling! Mom, if I yell at you like this, can you understand? Won't you panic? It's useless and irreversible. I'm already numb to the stimulation, although my heart is full of longing. (6) Ah, mother, you are the order in chaos, the reason born from turmoil and fanaticism, the home of wandering wanderers, and the unattainable realm and dream.

I am broad and kind because of you, and I am old too early because of you. 6. "Mother" meditates on the long river of years with clever eyes, climbs the wings of the earth all the way, retreats the dim color of the horizon, and the beautiful face sweeps away the dust all the way in the world, portrays tranquility, cares for the warmth of home, interprets the embarrassment of life with warm patience, and teaches children to regret it and bend over their tired bodies and minds. A mother's life is ordinary, and a happy child will never give up the habit of paying for reincarnation. Can you say that a good boy will be rewarded by his mother in the afterlife?

4. Poems expressing children's love for their mothers

Bielaomu

To worship the mother river beam,

Worry, watch.

On the tragic snowstorm night in Chai Men,

It is better to have children than nothing at this time.

Dry old clothes.

The robe is still there and the collar is still warm.

I can't bear to take it lightly when sewing again, and there are old thread marks of loving mothers on it.

Send mom home.

I was trapped in prison when I parked the car.

Feeling from this, sadness and tears stuck in the throat.

Fang's mother is seriously ill and wants to be a famous doctor.

The bus is very urgent today, so it is difficult to stop!

Motherly love has nothing to report, what can life expect!

1. I love them. How can I get to know my parents? Children's language

The bald old mother hid her face and cried, and her shirt sleeves were broken. Han Yu

3. The thread in the hand of a kind-hearted mother makes clothes for her wayward son. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring? [Tang] Meng Jiao

4. The baby is heavy in October, and the three students are rewarded lightly. Song of exhorting filial piety

The mother said that the child was lying dry and the mother was asleep and wet. Song of exhorting filial piety

6. The mother is bitter and the mother is uneasy. Song of exhorting filial piety

7. My mother is one hundred years old and often reads until she is eighty. Song of exhorting filial piety

8. My father gave birth to me, and my mother bowed to me, caressed me, nurtured me, nursed me, cared for me and answered me. The Book of Songs

9. The prodigal son respects his loving mother and doesn't feel cold. Song of exhorting filial piety

10. When the mother instrument hangs down, the pipe will be bright and the Wusu Night Station will be silent. Motto collection

1 1. In the eyes of parents, children are often a part of themselves, and children are his ideal chance to start over.

12. Mourn my parents and give birth to me. The Book of Songs

13. What's the point without mom and dad? The Book of Songs

14. The only unpolluted love in the world is maternal love. Strict words

15. When you succeed, everyone is a friend. But only mother-she is the partner of failure. zheng zhenduo

the song of the homeless

The midline of the loving mother's hand,

You get dressed.

Tight seam,

I'm afraid I will be late.

Who is careless,

Make three spring scenery.

5. Are there any poems about children and mothers?

Hold mom's hand, son.

-For the children who died in the earthquake

Come on, kid.

Hold mom's hand.

The road to heaven

It's too dark.

Mom is afraid of you.

Touched my head.

quick

Hold mom's hand.

Let mom go with you.

mother

be afraid

path to god

It's too dark

I can't see your hands.

because

A collapsed wall

Take away the sunshine.

I'll never see it again.

Your gentle eyes

children

You may leave now

The road ahead.

No more sadness

There are no endless textbooks.

And dad's fist

You must remember.

What do my father and I look like?

We should go together in the afterlife.

mother

Don't worry.

The road to heaven is a bit crowded.

There are many classmates and friends

We say

Don't cry.

Everyone's mother is our mother.

Any child is a mother's child.

Life without me

Give your love to the living children.

mother

Don't cry.

Tears cannot illuminate.

Our road

Let ourselves

go slow

mother

I will remember you and dad.

Remember our agreement.

Come with me in the afterlife.

6. What are the poems about children loving their mothers and fathers?

Jinhua

If I become a golden flower, for fun, I will grow on a tall branch, swing in the air with a smile and dance on new leaves. Mom, will you know me? If you yell, "Where are you, son?" I snickered there, but didn't say a word. I will quietly open my petals and watch you work. When you take a shower, put your wet hair on your shoulders, walk through the shade of golden flowers and walk to the yard where you pray, you will smell the flowers, but you don't know that the fragrance comes from me. At lunch, sit at the window and read Ramayana. When the shadow of that tree falls on your hair and knees, I will cast my little shadow on your page, where you are reading. But can you guess that this is a small shadow of your child? When you go to the cowshed with a lamp at dusk, I will suddenly fall to the ground again and become your child again. Please tell me a story. "Where have you been! You bad boy? " "I won't tell you, mom." That's what you and I were trying to say.

This may be the only one. Others are poems about maternal love and fatherly love.