Many great women have trod this earth,
Their light flickering like a burning hearth,
Blazing inspiration into the heart of every American,
Like Sacajawea, Earhart, and Harriet Tubman.
Others preferred to cast their light on a library,
Like Alcott, Austen, and Lucy Maud Montgomery.
Others favored the gleam of a Hollywood hall,
Like Shirley Temple, Doris Day, and Lucille Ball.
This list of heroines, geniuses, and celebrities seems unending,
But out of all these, I find thousands missing.
They aren’t the type a reporter would bother,
Since they’ve never been anything more than a mother.
How can people not notice these fair ladies clothed in silken love?
Or ignore their words that coo like a gentle dove?
They may not be numbered among great women of the past,
But the reasons I think they should be are vast.
Their hands steady our shaking nerves, arms, and feet.
Never do they forget to save us a seat.
Their smiles quiet our deepest pain,
And their wits help keep our heads sane.
They color the shadows of our lives with laughter,
And they seem to make God’s rainbows shine brighter.
The glistening hope they hold within
Causes their beauty to shine from under their skin.
Although their whistling and humming is a little off-tune,
It is sweet to our ears like the birds’ songs in June.
Every year, every week, every day we should shout in thanksgiving,
Because their presence helps make life worth living.
They are what holds a family together when it’s falling apart,
Pumping love, wisdom, and faith into its veins like the human heart.

Mariposa Aristeo is a writer of fantastical adventures filled with heart, humor, hope, and sometimes dinosaurs. But, most importantly, she’s a creative who seeks to glorify God on every page of her life.
Besides writing snarky characters who sass everybody, Mariposa loves bringing stories to life in full color as a freelance artist. She also enjoys inspiring other creatives as the Public Relations Director at Story Embers and the Social Media Manager at the Young Writer’s Workshop.
Her writing escapades include being a finalist in the ACFW First Impressions Contest and a semifinalist in the Realm Makers Aurora Contest. Her fantasy retelling of The Prince and the Pauper, Sons of Day & Night, releases November 2025 from Enclave Publishing.
Known affectionately as “Mari” by her real-life found family, she enjoys hanging out in local coffee shops, watching Disney films, and telling people that a pterodactyl isn’t actually a dinosaur. Connect with her and grab a free copy of her steampunk retelling of The Invisible Man at her website, or catch up on her writing shenanigans on Instagram.











This is a beautiful poem!!! <3
Thank you, Jen! 💜
Awww! *heart melts* So sweet!
Aw, your comments make me so happy. 🤗💜
Aww! What a sweet poem! And it had such a fun beginning. Mom’s are amazing. Beautifully written!
Thank you! 😊 I’m glad you liked it and I hope it encourages you (and everyone who reads this) to give your mother a huge hug today. 🙂 🤗
My mother and I are currently in separate states, but I called her and spoke with her. And I’m currently showering my grandmother with lots of hugs and kisses and chocolate shakes! <3 Happy Mother's Day to all of you wonderful, amazing women!
I’m drawn to your attention to rhyming detail 🙂 Lovely poem, Mariposa! <3 <3
Aww, thanks Cindy! 💜 Really, though, I only rhyme because I don’t know how to write free verse. 😅
Yay for moms! How appropriate this is for Mother’s Day. Great job, Mariposa. 😀
Yes! Mom’s are such a blessing! 💜 Thank you!
I love this! 😍 Beautifully written
Aw, thanks! 😊
I like it!!!!! Great job!
Thank you!!!
I love your poem. Sometimes it can be hard to see everything your mother does well for the disagreements and hostility that can occur between her and yourself (at least for me); but they really are amazing people that God has gifted with crazy amounts of talent, and strength, and love.
Thank you! Yes, I don’t alway appreciate my mom as much as I should. I don’t think anyone can truly begin to know how much their mother has done for them through the years.