A mother's kiss is a beautiful poem. Read though this piece for more on this poem.

A Mother's Kiss

It is said that the bond between a mother and her child is immortal and there is lot of truth in it. No relationship is so intense in this world like the bonding between a mother and her child. Mothers shower their children with love and affection and protect them from all the adversities of the world. The greatness of a mother has always inspired poets and philosophers over the ages. Famous writers have written beautiful and soulful verses about mothers and their bonding with their babies. Although everyday is mother's day, the significance of mothers is felt more on mother's day. It is a day that is meant to celebrate motherhood and is the perfect time to express all your heartfelt emotions for your mother. One such way to express your love for your mom is through poems. Inspirational and touching poems express the words of love that often go unspoken. If you are in search of such beautiful poems then here is an emotional poem written by the famous writer Frances E. W. Harper. The poem has a fantastic combination of right words and deep meanings that will surely be loved and appreciated by your mom.

Here are the lyrics of a beautiful mother love poem titled "A mother's kiss" by Frances E. W. Harper.

A Mother's Kiss
My mother's kiss, my mother's kiss,
I feel its impress now;
As in the bright and happy days
She pressed it on my brow.

You say it is a fancied thing
Within my memory fraught;
To me it has a sacred place--
The treasure house of thought.

Again, I feel her fingers glide
Amid my clustering hair;
I see the love-light in her eyes,
When all my life was fair.

Again, I hear her gentle voice
In warning or in love.
How precious was the faith that taught
My soul of things above.

The music of her voice is stilled,
Her lips are paled in death.
As precious pearls I'll clasp her words
Until my latest breath.

The world has scattered round my path
Honor and wealth and fame;
But naught so precious as the thoughts
That gather round her name.

And friends have placed upon my brow
The laurels of renown;
But she first taught me how to wear
My manhood as a crown.

My hair is silvered o'er with age,
I'm longing to depart;
To clasp again my mother's hand,
And be a child at heart.
To roam with her the glory-land
Where saints and angels greet;
To cast our crowns with songs of love
At our Redeemer's feet.