Mormons like Sentimental Poetry with Meter and Rhyme

When Mormon General Authorities speak, they often sound like they are reciting iambic pentameter. This is known as General Authority cadence. It’s unclear how long Mormons have fostered General Authority cadence, but President Thomas S. Monson—the church’s current President—has really mastered it.

Given that Mormons can sound as if they were reciting poetry when they are just telling stories about, for example, how they visited ailing widows in the Sixty-Seventh Ward, you can imagine what happens when Mormons actually recite poems. As the scouts will tell you, “Be prepared.” When Mormons recite poetry, Mormons take their cues from the poems General Authorities recite. This means you will not hear e.e. cummings, Sylvia Plath, or even Dr. Seuss. I would not recommend holding your breath waiting for a limerick or a haiku. No, when a Mormon takes to reciting poetry, it is much more likely that it will be poetry that would work well in a Hallmark card, flag raising ceremony, or a eulogy—something channeling the voice of Robert Frost and loaded with meter, sentiment, and rhyme.

Particularly when General Authorities recite such poetry, they will often reference the poem’s grandeur. It is the “classic poem,” the “well known poem,” or the “best loved poem.” There is only a slight chance after this lofty introduction that Mormons will recognize the poem. I grant possible exceptions for a couple of classic Robert Frost poems, the well known “Footprints,” and the best loved “The Old Violin.” Much more often, however, everyone in earshot will hear this classic, well known, and best loved poem not only for the first but also for the last time.

Because it is Mother’s Day tomorrow, I figured that it was only appropriate to pay respects to the Mormon mother. Yes, I know that many Mormons who have been asked to speak in church tomorrow are right now searching the Internet looking for that special poem celebrating mothers. While there are many gems to choose from, I have modified the much celebrated poem, “The Name of Mother.” To get the full effect, imagine a recitation in the cadence of a favorite General Authority and the introduction of this best loved poem:

The Name of Mormon Mother

The noblest bob your hair can claim,
The tastiest roast beef your kitchen tames,
Your children have the cutest names,
Won’t you consider having others?

You give me a quiet book when church is lame,
Your funeral potatoes win much acclaim,
You taught me to love board games—
Though you still confuse me with brother.

Did the Bishop just call your name,
To ask the Ward to please sustain?
Are you smiling or are you in pain,
Now that you are den mother?

The minivan in which you came,
Other Mormons drove the same,
We know father drives you insane—
The blessed Mormon mother.

I know that this poem isn’t much, but please, keep it in the mix if you are looking for classic poem about mothers. I know there are a lot of well known poems out there. But honestly, of all the poems I have written today, it is certainly the best loved poem I wrote.

Regardless, I hope those who claim Mothers Day as a holiday for themselves have a great one. If nothing else, may family members give you a coupon book that promises the performance of tasks already expected of them—a child to clean his room or a husband to watch the kids. Anyways, have a happy Mothers Day.