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Free Verse Baby Poems | Free Verse Poems About Baby

These Free Verse Baby poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Baby. These are the best examples of Free Verse Baby poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Double Phantasy

Mama, did you know the precious amethyst shadow hours
I spent beside you, cuddled cosy-close, nestled in blankets of light,
shawled in your red-gold hair? I kissed each tear you cried;
each one a starlight pearl forged from the depths
of your fragile soul. I rocked seashell-shut to each lullaby note
and silently watched as you rocked my cold, empty cradle.
Sometimes you sensed me coiled at your breast -
a small, balled knot of grief. You felt my tiny fingers plucking at you
as tingling shivers. And sometimes I bounced sunshine-free
on your knee, a giggling orb of light.

Little one, once again I felt you here,
entombed in the womb of this eternal everywhere room,
your spirit sifting through my fingers like hourglass sand.
Pain has blanked my mind wraith-white, but I felt
your lips nip the warm rosebuds of my nipples
as I pressed a lullaby to the delicate shell of your ear
and brief blessed seconds spun out like years.
My sentient heart will always hold you, my grip will never slip,
as my earthbound hands, human-warm, reach through time
and heather-shadowed ether to love and care for you.




18/6/2011

*'phantasy' is a deliberate misspelling, an amalgamation of 'phantom' and 'fantasy'

Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

I'm Vinyl Baby


i’m vinyl baby,
easy to scratch,
easy to gouge, 
prone to warping.

i’m a 45 rpm record, 
single and labelled,
still got track marks.

dot dot dot
from the seventies!

you know there’s
my black side,
my dark side.

i’m a 45 rpm record, 
single and labelled,
still got track marks.

you,
you’re my diamond needle.
i'm your music,
you know me,
 you play me.

you,
you’re my diamond needle.
gets under my skin
rides my 
grooves
you.

still,
even pass these years,
still,
when my time comes,
pack me in my jacket
bury me in your closet.

you know i’m still
your song,
your tune,

dot dot dot

you make my life neat.

spin
like a circle
i’m the black vinyl
on the roundabout

you,
your still 
the only 
turntable 
for me.
you.

i’m a 45 rpm record, 
single and labelled,
still got track marks.

play me!



14~12~2015
Maurice Yvonne


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

A Wish -re-post-

A WISH -- In Memory Of 

"I Wish"

I wish I could blow air into your little lungs, 
The day my daughter brought your stillborn body into this world. 
Hold your little body warm, 
And tell my little girl you have her cute little nose....
Count your little fingers, and kiss your little toes....

I wish, 
I could look into your daring eyes, 
Facing a little boy, who's ready for this world
I wish,
I could tell my daughter you have her beautiful brown eyes...
Sadly, it’s not like that.
How can I tell my daughter everything will be all right?
When a piece of my heart was stolen with her's,
When giving birth to her son, my grandson 
March 25, 2013---- How it Hurts! 
~~~
O’ how I wish, you entered this world crying
Instead, we're the ones left in tears of sorrow
~~~
How I wish you could be, 
And not this feeling you left inside
How I wish, God could explain why o' why o' why?

Mostly, I WISH grandma could fix this and make 
your mommy feel, the joy she was robbed of.

In memory of my grandson: ---Bael Lesley G.
Born March 25, 2013  ---   RIP March 25, 2013

----------
by;PD  :-(

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Aftermath

That December
I stumbled through twisted tinsel streets,
oblivious to ice and seasonal shouts,
muffled by snow-silence; a mannequin moving through mists,
quietly fragmenting behind frost-fragile walls of frailty.

Bleak winds blew open the hinges of my hypothermic heart,
wailed a wintry lament only I could hear -
ice-shrapnel words blown to lodge in my ear: you've lost the baby.
Those four words were spiked icicles, glacier-cold.
Hope disintegrated like snow-powder as they pierced me.

Streets seemed pregnant with the plumpness of babies;
their little doll faces reddish and cold,
their pink, gummy mouths demanding, demanding.
And my breasts were frozen roses,
too iced to feed their tiny need.

Snowflakes trembled like butterflies blown from the Arctic
or the feeble flutter of a failing foetal heartbeat.
The town became a barren expanse of white:
cold crystals drifting, acres of snow-diamond light.
But shops shimmered with heat, bulged bauble-gaudy

with the fatness of consumerism.
And I was reed-slender, my womb a hollowed-out tomb.
Everywhere, babies bloomed, precious as poinsettias;
mouths like petals, squirmy with hungry red cries and squalls,
echoing, echoing, as I squinted into the white squall.

And a ribbon of milk unloosed itself silently,
sudden and scalding, like a fountaining of tears;
a lacework trace soaking my shimmer thread sweater dress;
a single, small, white thaw as I silently unravelled,
stumbling through streets that spooled like silver yarn -

that December.





9/11/2013

Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Through the Door

Can you see them run to me – arms wide and laughing,
calling me, Mama: keeper of the stars, moon and hearts?
Can you see them kiss away my pain, healing every hurt
that’s ever marked me broken, dead or dying?

Can you see them hurt me? When they curse me, flay me; 
ground me with their unformed anger and bravado-uncertainty
until they fly behind doors, crying over what they’ve said – 
wishing they could take it back? 

O’, does that pride HURT! 
It stabs the chest and holds…holds…holds.
Can you see them behind doors and feel their wishful hearts burn? 
Can you feel them loving me through it all?
Love is not something easily hidden. Love like that breaks down doors – 
                                    sees through them. 
Can you see my tears; feel the weight of them on your cheeks? 
They are yours. 
Where you are (past the furthest/closest door) can you see me in them? 
Can you see the love I kept hidden in my dark and painful dungeon? 
You never knew what he did to me – but deep down, I blamed you anyway. 
There was only you left, you see; always you.
Can you see, I'm just like you?

If you can see me, you know. 
And if you can hear me crying through this God Damned pen (all those notes – 
all those written sorry’s slipped beneath doors - you must have known that
even at 37, I’d write you my heart in a note!)

You, Gran/Mother, are my one and only regret. 
That for 7 years, I treated you like a burden, a bother, and a barrier. 
I treated you like you should have treated me – an unintentional intruder;
like something taken, not given. 
But worse than that, I treated you like an acquaintance. 
Knowing how badly that must have hurt you, makes me want to be kicked in the face 
until I am unrecognizable; to the rest of the world, and myself. 

But life’s not like that, is it? No. You knew that, too. 

My baby boy has your nose, ears, and eyes. 
Do you think that if I whisper in his ear tonight while he sleeps (between you and me – 
at the doorway), you could hear me?
Tonight, I will whisper love in his perfect ear (pressed up against heaven’s door) -
maybe you will hear me say,

“Indy…Gran, I’m so sorry. If you can hear me, please give me a sign so I will know 
you’ve heard me. I want to see you smile again – just one more time…please…
let me know that somewhere, behind the door, you forgive me…”

And in the darkness of his bedroom; the moonlight covering his small face
like an angel’s kiss, the baby boy in her likeness, smiled.

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Hush Hush Sleep Baby Sleep

 
Tonight like all the other nights I lay down next to her cot bed ,run my fingers through her hair ' Hush Hush ,sleep baby sleep ' , I Softly sing to her. I sing to her a lullaby She listened to from birth I hum to her the melody that knows her water world Then I proudly watch her , touch the inside of her palm I whisper sweet and gentle ,trying to keep her calm. I feel her tiny fingers curl around my own till She slowly drifts to sleep in dreams so far from home. In dreams with lands of faries , of stars twinkling in streams In castles made of pure bliss where our grips find release. Tonight, is not like other nights,. 2 am , total darkness but cannot , just cannot close my eyes. I look at her , and gently lift her , I place her in my arms I Hold her close, I hold her tight , with all my need and all my might. I rock her to the beat , to the beating of my heart I kiss her , I kiss her deep , as if we're to depart. I put her back , I lay her down , to snuggle with her teddy Warm tears , first tears , start falling , suddenly. Tonight is not like other nights . 3 am , total darkness but cannot , just cannot close my eyes I write all my emotion ,as if its the last time I could write Tonight is not like other nights . 4 am , the moon reflects its light but cannot , just cannot close my eyes Warm smiles , new smiles , replace this pain, this fear lurking inside Because I know , if shapeless clouds cover my sight the last words that I penned ,were for my precious child.

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Bedlam baby

I remember you
cartoon smile and egg-shaped head.
Do you remember
how the rainbow formed on the water,
how the neon lights flickered,
or the scent of nectarines on your forehead?
They were happy to see for the first time
behind glass window,
between speaker box voices --
unopened package,
untouched collector’s item,
you shiny new contraption,
star of the play,
hero of the hour, 
flavor of the season.

Seed of your father,
soil of your mother.
Fruit of love,
fruit of conflict.
Decision’s aftermath,
delusion’s consequence,
Are you accident,
                    intention,
                            problem,
                                  solution?

Bough in the river,
wrenched in the current.
Hand reaching for hand,
hand holding your own.
Bedlam baby with the guilty smile
do you remember
how you would not fracture the  mullioned frame,
how you could not shatter porcelain,
or how you hid in changing alleys?

I will save you
you will save me.
My hand in yours.
I am the boat
you are the journey.

Copyright © Ryan Caidic | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse | |

A WISH

"I Wish"

I wish I could blow air into your little lungs, 
The day my daughter brought your stillborn body into this world. 
Hold your little body warm, 
And tell my little girl you have her cute little nose....
Count your little fingers, and kiss your little toes....

I wish, 
I could look into your daring eyes, 
Facing a little boy, who's ready for this world
I wish,
I could tell my daughter you have her beautiful brown eyes...
Sadly, it’s not like that.
How can I tell my daughter everything will be all right?
When a piece of my heart was stolen with her's,
When giving birth to her son, my grandson 
March 25, 2013---- How it Hurts! 
~~~
O’ how I wish, you entered this world crying
Instead, we're the ones left in tears of sorrow
~~~
How I wish you could be, 
And not this feeling you left inside
How I wish, God could explain why o' why o' why?
I wish I could find the reasons now, and not wait until I die.

Mostly, I WISH Mommy could fix this.

Bael Lesley G.
Born March 25, 2013 
RIP March 25, 2013

----------
by;PD  :-(

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Confessions Of A Baby Snatcher - uncut

This is my last confession, there will be no more.

I am impercipient and slow from last night's sleeping pill,
wincing away from the harshness of day.
Kitchen cold, the room tear-splintered,
sunlight striking a watery rainbow in my eyes;
air smothering-stale from my hopeless coffee-cup crying,
whilst life outside the window ticks on relentlessly.
Seconds turn into minutes turn into hours...

When you plashed your pearlescence over my pale skin
I never guessed the inner ugliness of those seascape pearls
encircling each ovary, stubbornly adhesive, leaching new life.
The scanner's screen sizzling static, darkening to nightshade depth,
its impersonal probe trailing damp viscosity over my belly;
shockingly sticky as the first time you came on me
but lacking the warmth.
Puppetted by pity, you brought me pink carnations,
crushed their bright, baby-frail faces into a tacky hospital vase.

I am weighted with a multitude of baby-frail faces.

Indifference cold-eyed me at the hospital: histrionic, hysterical,
a blubbing huddle of neuroses - "Doctor will I conceive again?" -
a collocation of surgical steel and wonder drugs.
Drugs to inflate the ovaries with a Botox bloat.
Drugs to wipe clean the scribbled slate of the mind.
You left me to weep amongst white hospital sheets,
coffin-cold, my hands folded on emptiness,
a paint palette of blood inks seeping from me.

Brushed by the soft wing of silence, what was being concealed?
The products of conception, screened from view?
The unseen dead, faceless and nameless,
trundling on trolleys through sterile corridors
to the eager heat blast of the incinerator - their crematorium.

They said I could try again
but barrenness occupies my bed;
it is a womb-burrower, fattening stealthily on menstrual blood.
The claw of infertility is clamped on my shoulder;
torturous flesh-hooks digging at my skin.
I ache all day from blanched almond ovaries;
fragile finger-fronds stilled to nothingness...

I find myself miraculously in the shopping mall;
my feet have no memory of the pavement that brought me here.
Fruit machines flicker and wince like migraine.
I circle the shop floor, keeping a safe distance.
I am not dangerous. I am not predatory.
I only seek to protect the meek;
to shield them from the vodka bottle,
the beatings, the needle in the arm.
Beneath the strip light's dizzying glare,
tenderly fingering bootees soft as puppies, mittens like kittens,
the meek sweet sleep smell pulling me in.
My purchases earn me a benevolent smile
from pretty Pollyanna at the cash till.

The tapestries of faces at school gate gatherings -
faces daffodil-bright, sunstruck and open with joy;
the happy, heaving hordes.
I am not dangerous. I am not predatory.
I only yearn to merge with the scenery of domesticity,
immersing myself in routine and normality.

Noticing individuality,
the way it blossoms in every pram,
hazed by the human differences.
Vertiginous spinning of kaleidoscope and rainbow;
the park a synaesthetic playground:
blood bursts of poppy, fire flames of freesia.
My audible emptiness clattering; a hollow pod rattling
amongst bud bursts of green, fruiting trees, flowers heavy with pollen.
A sickly size six drifting diaphanously;
the scenery of pregnancy swelling around me.
Encircled by circularity: round bellies, round faces,
roundabouts spinning, globular beach balls and balloons,
blossom spheres shaken from trees shivering to the ground.

Awake again last night in smothering, starless dark,
that tiny bloodied form beating like a trapped butterfly inside my head;
face pressed into a tear-damp pillow,
recalling the bathroom's midnight chill
as I knelt in raw ruby carnage on the floor.

This is my last confession, there will be no more.

Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Precious Shell

Rose-veined, you opened the heart vein in me
as I crested each white wave of grief.
Nipple-rosy, you suckled sadness like mother milk;

miraculous, whorled in warm salt waters -
small sea-curled shell, rocked by my body's waves.
When sea-voiced songs swirled into the pearled

shell of your ear did you hear
my breeze blown words, wave-whispered?
Small, balled conch of cute, ocean floating

but clam-clamped to the placental shore,
tethered by a soft seaweed sway.
Little love limpet, lodged forever

beneath my heart's carapace -
a memory mollusc
clinging to my dry driftwood days.

Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Baby Unicorn

Welcome to the land of butterflys and buttercups
The place where baby unicorns run free
It does not rain here
Nothing but sunshine
sandy beaches
Race with the waves as they crash against the shore
Here the sand is white as snow
Yet it's so soft
So warm
The water azure blue
Dive into the ocean
Let it envelope your body
Wash away sadness
Cleanse you
Renew your soul
Emerge 
Energized 
Strengthened
Joy can once again be a friend
Dream happy dreams
Fill your land with all that you love
You are woman
Stronger than even you know
The pen is mightier 
You are a poet a creator of worlds
You determine what you see
You choose your joy
Let imagination fuel reality
See the you that you are meant to be

Dedicated to Colleen Bono
Check out the Science of Happiness by Shawn Achor on UTube

Submitted to You Are Beautiful Contest. 

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Once Upon A Time

This is a poem about the future I'd love to have with the boy of my dreams.
None of this has actually happened yet (besides us falling in love with eachother) but it's how I would like it to happen.

Once upon a time, I became the luckiest girl in the world. I fell in love with a gorgeous boy with blue eyes, and he actually loved me back. He was like my prince, he treated me like his princess and would do anything for me. Today, we're united as King and Queen. It's been years, but walking down the aisle I'm still staring at the cutest, most perfect guy I've ever seen. When our lips finally meet after parting to say "I do", it tastes like Heaven.

Once upon a time, I married a gorgeous boy with blue eyes. And today, I saw those perfect blue eyes light up when he first held our little girl in his arms. She's got her Daddy's blue eyes and just a little bit of her Momma's brown hair. She's going to be spoiled and loved more than possible. She'll know we support her no matter what, and she can tell us everything. It will be perfect.

Once upon a time, one set of blue eyes became two, and we were made into a family. Now, that second pair of blue eyes is walking out the door to college, with a suitcase in one hand and a boy's hand in the other. He better love her and treat her just as well as her Daddy does.

Once upon a time, I fell in love with a gorgeous boy with blue eyes. His hair has dulled and grayed but his eyes are the same, and they've seen a lifetime's worth of happiness and love. My baby had babies with the boy she walked out the door with, and I can tell she loves them as much as we loved her. Now it's her time to live.

Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

A Mother's Ears


I sometimes feel a unique vibration within my own ears. My baby’s crying, calling from beneath his quilted, baby-blues. His sobs rustle the warm sheath of home. Before my mind reacts, my body is up, hastily tip-toeing into the nightlight’s calming glow of a cow jumping over the moon. Outside a soggy, spring night splatters under streetlights like urban art. A steady rhythm of flowing rain beats down on puddled pavements. My baby’s cries reverberate as they reach that instinctual part of me, somewhere deep within my diaphragm and through my heart. A mother’s astute ears know the subtle variations of her own children’s breath in sleep…I hurry to the shadows of my baby’s crib to find him curled up, eyes still closed; little whimpers and groans escape from his open lips…a bad dream, I realize. I gently rub his back, shushing away all that disturbs his peace, and I wonder about a child’s impressionable mind… what intrusions of an innocent day could bring a bellowed anguish to the sweet dreams of a carefree boy not yet two? I listen to him tumble in and out of his fear until his breath is a tranquil hum… only then, do I hear the music of an early morning’s falling rain.

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Cry-Baby Cat

Cry Baby Cat, was a stray that turned up wailing outside our front door. We never turn down a stranger in town, especially when clouds have gathered to storm. Beginning to pour, I opened the door, and we welcomed him in, as the thunder began Well, he shivered, and wailed even more! His coat was all wet, like a little drowned rat so I dried him, the best that I can. We fed him a bit, and settled the cat in a box, filled with blankets, within. Found a new litter box, and tucked it away not far, where the kitty would stay. We turned off the lights, but the thunder and fright scared the cat, and he soon disappeared ! Right under our bed, .....so while poking my head 'neath the spread of the bed, I said "Here, kitty, kitty"... and my heart had such pity, for the poor little fit he was in. And that's how it began, scaredy cat had no friends Till we fell head over heels till the end! He was just a cry-baby....., and although we said "maybe" he picked us back then, as his kin
________________________________________________ For Francine's Contest: Beloved Pets 6/18/15

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Lexi's Preconceived Womb

Life giving womb, silent and sacred
Mystical, blood red, embryo connected
Cords from umbilicus, abstract limbo
Unborn life, undiscovered, now growing.

Within the confines of limited space
As yet unknown, haven from the world
Unborn life, feeding moment by moment
Pressing lines, altered shapes, now reliant.

Cover the little child, unborn, in love
Keep it protected, now undisturbed
Freedom in birth, to live and to breathe
Hope for the future, this new life, to live.





Written on 5/20/2015


Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Angel Baby

Misplaced inside my tube,
 is where you grew but did not fit.
No longer.could you be inside ,of me :(
But always.and forever my Angel Baby.

Copyright © lisa gomez | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Ever So Sweet-

Her cotton candy cheeks,
glow like pink marshmallows.
And dark chocolate curls
adorn her pretty head.

She sports blueberry eyes
and red liquorice lips.
And a creamy face with 
a million dollar smile.

A confectionery
treat, she’s extraordinaire.
And gives sugared kisses
that tastes ever so sweet.

Written July 23, 2015

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

A Mother's Ears

A Mother’s Ears A mother’s ears become magic the minute she hears her newborn cry— nature turns up the volume like at no other time. The slightest cry, whimper, sneeze, cough, hiccup, sounds like a gong that vibrates her into action. Like a mama penguin coming in from the hunt at sea she knows the sound of her little one calling among hundreds— and she rushes to her baby. Baby’s special sound, mama’s special ears, they develop in the time of motherhood— a one-on-one relationship between sound and love. A mother is a communication system receiving, decoding, interpreting, sending, reacting— like an intricate multi-faceted machine— with a huge, beating heart of love, a mind full of devotion, nurturing and commitment— and magnificent ears. Sandra M. Haight ~NA~ Contest: A Mother’s Ears Sponsor: Craig Cornish Judged: 05/18/2016

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Confessions Of A Baby-Snatcher

This is my last confession; there will be no more.

I am impercipient and slow from last night's sleeping pill,
wincing away from the harshness of day.
Kitchen cold, the room tear-splintered,
sunlight striking a watery rainbow in my eyes,
the air smothering-stale from my hopeless coffee cup crying,
while life ticks on relentlessly outside the window.
Seconds turn into minutes turn into hours...

When you plashed your pearlescence over my pale skin
I never guessed the inner ugliness of those seascape pearls
encircling each ovary, stubbornly adhesive, leaching new life.
The scanner's screen sizzling static, darkening to nightshade depth,
its impersonal probe trailing damp viscosity over my belly;
shockingly sticky as the first time you came over me
but lacking the warmth.
You left me to weep among white hospital sheets:
coffin-cold, my hands folded on emptiness,
a paint palette of blood inks seeping from me...

I find myself miraculously in the shopping mall;
my feet have no memory of the pavement that brought me here.
Fruit machines flicker and wince like migraine.
I circle the shop floor, keeping a safe distance.
Beneath the strip light's dizzying glare,
tenderly fingering bootees soft as puppies, mittens like kittens,
the meek sweet sleep smell pulling me in.
My purchases earn me a benevolent smile
from pretty Pollyanna at the cash till.

The tapestries of faces at school gate gatherings -
faces daffodil-bright, sunstruck and open with joy,
the happy heaving hordes.
I am not dangerous, I am not predatory.
I only yearn to merge with the scenery of domesticity,
immersing myself in routine and normality.

Noticing individuality,
the way it blossoms in every pram;
hazed by the human differences.
Vertiginous spinning of kaleidoscope and rainbow;
the park a synaesthetic playground:
blood bursts of poppy, fire flames of freesia.
My audible emptiness clattering, a hollow pod rattling
among bud bursts of green, fruiting trees, flowers heavy with pollen.
The scenery of pregnancy swelling around me.
Encircled by circularity: round bellies, round faces,
roundabouts spinning, globular beach balls and balloons,
blossom spheres shaken from trees shivering to the ground.

Awake again last night in smothering, starless dark,
that tiny bloodied form beating like a trapped butterfly inside my head,
face pressed into a tear-damp pillow,
recalling the bathroom's midnight chill
as I knelt in raw ruby carnage on the floor.

This is my last confession; there will be no more.

Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

A Lollipop in Page

The chirp of cloudy morning peal its wondrous beauty 
As it was a perfect moment to sip the taste of an old times
Pampered and drawn by those vintage voices
Shrunk in this sweet anomaly,  the frames of a time roamer

Word by word, time after time
An anecdote is herding, I'm dancing in a rime
Reread all my writes, feel the flakes of each verses
My masterpieces in time, the journal of life's flavours

Now I'm landing on a sketch of laughters
Where I feel the rainbow of bliss
A small creature is trying to stay
In a warm belly it grows in its way

Waiting is the first list to do
Hoping for the best is the lovely second line
I have another story to make
And this time I offer you the lollipop in page

Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Child Mother

Lying on my back,
the warm sun blanketing,
I watched the cloud stacks drift,
breezily blown across the bluest skies,
imagining, dreaming . . .

Dangling from my lips,
sweet honeysuckle straws dripped nectar candy,
delicious extract for flavoring dreams,
visions of the joys to come
when I was older grown,
reveries of life and love
and children of my own.

Beneath the apple tree,
in spring pink blossom carpeted,
I laid out the charming rooms
that framed a happy home.
The hollyhocks lent their blooms
for babies hankie-swaddled
and clothed in petal gowns of white and pink.
My flower-children, plump and fragrant skinned,
rocked in cradles strung between the branches,
were lulled to sleep with tender lullabies.

The happy days of childhood passed,
and I was suddenly grown
with tiny babies of my own,
sweeter far than any flower known.
The kisses that I gave to them
were answered, returned to me,
from lips like rose buds formed
perfumed with baby breaths, fragrant and warm.

The childhood dream that I held dear
I treasured year after year
until I found it realized,
reflected in my babies' eyes.

August 16, 2015

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

You

You lied there that night, the pain you felt was so hard for me, but a brave face was all you made I was there, useless as always. Your hand in mine, I felt so helpless. I could feel your fear as the time wore on, the doctor not helping at all. Hours passed and the pain grew but I was with you, not knowing what to do. I could see you questioning yourself. As if you felt unworthy. I knew better, you were so strong, but I wasn't. Fifteen hours later I could take no more as the fear in you grew and the doctor reached for you. Can't you see somethings wrong! They made me leave and took you. I was so scared but you never knew. I sat waiting for an eternity, then out of the blue, I heard a voice speaking to me. The doctor came from the operating room. He had something in his hand as he walked slowly toward me with concern on his face I stood, numb, and looked in the dish he held. He said the cord was rapped around her shoulder and this, as he glanced at the dish, is what caused the pain, but you were OK. I felt weak as I listened to what he had to say. but, you were OK was all I heard. The nurse soon came, "It's a girl," she said as I looked through the plastic case. So, perfect and beautiful she lay there calm serene, perfect purple fingers and bright red hair. She was you and my eyes filled as I looked at her, at you, my beautiful Babe.
12/23/15

Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

A Strong Man Like A Baby in Her Arms

He is a strong man: unbendable, unbreakable…steel
He is a brave man
He fights his battles
He claims his victories
Vicious and fierce when the need arises
Protective and overly zealous
A fighter
A gladiator who can wound
To protect what is his
A strong man by day
Everyday

But then at night, oh sweet blessed night
A strong man like a baby in her arms
He is covered in her scented softness
She lets him suckle at her breast
Feeding him her soul
Nourishing him
Whispering in his ear
As she runs her hand through his hair
Gently binding his wounds from battle
Caressing his taught muscles with fragrant oil
Soothing him
Crooning to him
Letting the last sound in his ears
To be her melodious lullaby of love
Her mighty warrior...her baby

He drifts off into sleep
Covered in her blanket of charms
Safe from all harm
A strong man like a baby in her arms

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Not for Line Contest
“A strong man like a baby in her arms”
A line penned by Richard Lamoureux in the poem: A Warrior Princess

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

A stifled cry

"It was a mistake", she said. 
A tiny life swiped in seconds as 
gods creation is rendered a 
mere cluster of cells. 
Returned back to heaven 
hoping the return policy 
wouldn't deny. 
It was a mistake; a stifled cry

A lifetime of progress, 
innovation, and memories down 
the drain.
The notorious "what if" 
squashed with plan b; no hopes 
of a future. 
A stifled cry 

She could have cured cancer or 
delivered world peace. 
She could've fed the hungry 
and housed the poor. 
She could've been a Honors 
Harvard medical school 
graduate and your pride and 
joy.
None are the magical christmas 
mornings, first days of school, 
or birthdays. 
Terminated are the memorable 
first steps and momentous  
coos calling for "mamma". 
No more possibilities. Now a 
stifled cry. 

"It was a mistake", she said. 
A moment of carelessness and 
selfishness translates into a life 
lost. 
Permanent. 
Sent back into the arms of god. 
An easy way out. A stifled cry.

Copyright © Alexis Brake | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Baby Blue Jeans

 She wears her kindness, a full length gown  as if it were a pair of baby blue jeans  soft in color, tough in its fabric. She is adorned in silk  refracts incoming ideas  produces her own. Like the shimmer  of this same silk  she is brilliant! Her embrace is boundless. Her exuberance unmatched. She is "music". Paints with the bold strokes of her guitar, the perfect pitch of her voice, natures smile. She is an original, nothing like you. She is  passionate, exactly like you. She offers all this, more. Chooses you. "I love her with every fiber..." Often I wonder. With so many beautiful words  attaching themselves so easily to women why would any man ever need to lie...
Sept/26/2014

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Elephant Leg

There’s a part of you 
I cannot see or touch.  

In the dark, alone, I know 
every curve of your body.  
I could sculpt you from memory.  
Each detail vivid in 
my mind’s eye.  

The baby nail on your baby toe.  
This neck that takes to kissing.  
I know the moment when your 
hip becomes belly.  
Just there.  

But there’s a part of you I 
cannot see or touch.  Hidden, I want to 
know it all the more.  
Behind your eyes, inside 
your heart, that essential 
you, separate from this 
fragile tissue hanging, draped, over bone.  

I watch you move when 
you’re not looking.  
Standing, your toes curling.  
Twisting the end of your hair while thinking.  
Asleep, I know your breathing.  
You hold the morning cup like a chalice.  
Little lines around your eyes deepen sometimes.  

These things are pieces of a whole I ache to know.
This elephant leg obscured by sightless eyes can 
be anything.  Groping blindly toward
the totality of you, revealed in fits and starts.

This life of mine no longer turned inward.
Every day I have new discoveries to make.

Copyright © Sander Wolff | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

Still Called Mother

My body is a graveyard.
I buried you inside this defective womb.
I am less than a woman.
My flesh a fertile tomb.
Tiny ghost.
I will never hold you.

My baby is crying.
My baby is crying and no one can hear their haunting wail but me.
Night after night.
Hush now.
Shhh, 
Momma loves you.
Inviting this emotional decay,
I am damaged.

My heart is in the ground with you, dear one. 
This body betrayed me.
The space between these hips, 
Now an empty cradle.
That gentle heartbeat,
Faltered,
Ceased.

I am always with you.
Child,
Deceased.
My soul gently rocks you,
As you sleep.
When the fragile heart stops beating,
Are you still called mother?

Copyright © Nadia Steel | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Your mother am I

   You, my baby girl and your mother am I 
You nurse from my body until I am dry
Sometimes late at night I get you out of bed
We sit and rock for hours as I rub your sweet head

   You, my little girl and your mother am I 
Come let me hold you as we say goodbye
Though I must leave for a very short while
You can bet I'll return with open arms and a smile
Be strong little one, I must strengthen your wings
So you can handle the wind among other things

   You, my daughter and your mother am I
Lay your head in my lap as I explain why
Girls can be wicked as they strive to be cool
You know of your beauty.  Mama didn't raise a fool
Now listen to my wisdom and take my advice
The best way to get them back is to simply be nice
I don't expect you to understand.  I just beg for your trust
Do as I say.  Be respectful, kind and just

   You, my daughter and your mother am I 
Lean your head on my shoulders as I dry your eyes
You believe your heart to be broken, no chance of repair 
Listen as I tell you, I myself have been there
It's just a little hiccup in this thing we call life
You will fall in love again and make a beautiful wife

   You are an improved version of who I used to be
I pray I have taught you well as I set you free
Sit with me a while and let me soak in your sweet smell
You will go out in this world and I know you'll do well

   You, my daughter and your mother am I
That is who I am and who I will be until the day I die

Copyright © Anna Hopper | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

The Baby Blue Bonnet

The smile on one's face makes them feel glad again
My sister always had a smile to share
Once came time for her birthday,
A handsome boy came to call
And along with him,
A baby blue bonnet that pleased us all.

The smile on her face showed us she was glad
She leaned in a gave a sweet little kiss
Then the Civil War started and he had to go
She would be crying for him.

The bleak war raged on
Many were dead
She was pining for him.

The sheets of casualties came and they left
Many were torn to pieces
My sister dear cried,
"He has died and left me!"
She hugged the dear baby blue bonnet.

The time was bleak when she claimed the body
Sister dear had to wear black
When came the funeral,
She brought with her
The beloved baby blue bonnet

She refused to wear the hideous black hat
"Instead the bonnet!" she cried
For she would remember
The sunny day when,
He gave her the baby blue bonnet.

Copyright © Kailee Ottman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Twirling Revelations

Warmth, surrounded me…always
My lips, my eyes, closed… 
Mesmerized by the darkness that brought me consolation
I remember there were colors under those lids,
Green, spurts of purple…and sporadic yellows and reds
They danced and flashed
Whenever your voice rumbled and vibrated my abode
I remember the earthquakes of laughter 
That pushed me against the soft, supported side…
I merely bounced back to the middle again
My legs, bending, and then kicking off against it
My body twirling in the lavish liquid
Natural twists and turns that were later underappreciated
Twists and turns that were who I was
I didn’t realize they would always shape who I am

Deep voice—music—surrounded me always
My ears opened to the muffled marvel
Curious of the outside world that birthed the mysteries of who I am
I recall frustration, kicking against your soft insides….
Colors of black, gray tints, and calming browns…
That left me gurgling for more of those outside sounds
Because that first day I heard the lightning yells
The hot swells of your insides boiled
My body twirled and twirled as I heard you wail
Crying…sobbing…
My heart beat faster—wanting more to leave this vessel
Wanting to be a separate thing
Wanting all to hear me scream
To feel the cold, rubbery hands of a stranger
Lift me—and to your breast—gift me

It was always the warmth of the liquid
And the comfort of our bond
That always remained 

Bonds and beliefs never dry 
Blood is blood
Color is color
It is living to be separate that makes us gods

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014