Submit a Poem
Get Your Premium Membership
spacer

Baby Quatrain Poems | Quatrain Poems About Baby

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

12
Details | Quatrain |

I Love Mommy Because

Mommy loves me more than laundry
More than dirty dishes too
She’d rather spend her time with me 
Than doing things others do

She would rather play with me 
Than take a nap or sew
I love Mommy ‘cause she loves me
More than any TV show

She’s always there to pick me up 
And love away my tears.
She prays to Jesus every night 
To keep me from my fears

She gobbles like a turkey
And loves to dance around
I always smile; always laugh
She’s better than a clown

She’d rather eat her food all cold
So she can feed me “HUM”, and
Then wipe my face and clean the 
Walls and floor of food I’ve flung
 
Mommy makes the greatest faces 
When I do something she likes
But, saves the best for when she finds
She’ll need the baby wipes

She mostly talks like grownups do
But tries to talk like me
She hasn't mastered yet just how 
To speak in baby-ese.

If there’s just one thing I could say 
To Mommy when I’m grown…
“Thank you for who you are 
And the love you’ve always shown.”


Details | Quatrain |

Dark Lullaby

Go to sleep little child;
Close your eyes and shut them tight,
For we do not know if day will break
And be swallowed up by night.

But for now, worry not, my dear;
The dark's not as bad as it seems.
Though darkness looms over the future,
You can still escape into your dreams.

Lie still my darling baby;
Breathe calmly and breathe slow
Enjoy the quiet of the tranquil night
And the moon's hypnotic glow.

Worry not about the closet
Or the things under your bed;
Escape into Dreamland, my dear,
Safe from all the things you dread.

And if tomorrow fails in coming,
At least you will not be here;
Fly away my child, to the Land of Dreams...

Or be consumed by your fears.


Details | Quatrain |

Papa, Mama and Winnie

I’ve placed it in the most visible place
This old photo of black and white
Taken in 1943, the edges worn and frayed  
Papa, Mama, Winnie, eyes bright

Though one by one they’ve all gone
They’ve left legacies of love, faith
And the sweet memories linger on
This beautiful photo transmits

When I look at their eyes
Warmth and gentleness residing                   
Dressed in their best, wearing subtle smiles
Beauty is captured, surviving!
~*~
3/03/13
Inspired by a beautiful photo of my parents and eldest sister...R.I.P.


Details | Quatrain |

The Baby Fawn

A baby fawn leaps into the meadow,
I hold my breath and try not to scare.
I watch in beauty as she grazes,
And smile as she becomes aware.

She stares at me intensley,
Eyes deep with young innocence.
She slowley goes back to her grazing,
Her ears flickering to my presence.

She takes a sip from the stream,
Before she frolicks toward the trees.
She looks back at me one last time,
Then hops through the autumn leaves.

An emptyness sets inside me,
For now the fawn is gone,
Left out all on her own,
To defend herself towards harm.

To know i can't protect her,
Sets my stomach in unease.
But I tell myself she's happy,
As free as the flowing breeze.

Because sometimes to hold on,
Can hurt the one you love,
And even the sadness of her being gone,
She will be pain free from up above.


Details | Quatrain |

The Sound of Love

Lying in the cold sterile room
Tentatively tracing a soft pattern on the chair.
My husband’s ashen face
Staring blankly at the bleached white walls.

Calming myself with each breath
Waiting patiently for the news.
She slowly enters with a kind smile
Immediately I feel my anxiety weaken. 

She looks at the intimidating screen
Suddenly the frantic sound fills the room
The sound I will never forget, but long to hear again
The sound of a thrashing propeller somehow submerged in water. 

The screen becomes a transparent window
For the first time we gawk at our child.
How I have prayed and imagined seeing him.
How I have worried for everything to be alright. 

We entered with unspoken concerns
Leaving with joyous hearts 
Proof of our little child
Growing healthy with the strong sound of love.


Details | Quatrain |

My Little Angel

Mittens and booties
little hands and feet
nice little cap
worn on little head

Cute little fingers
delicate to touch
wrap so tightly
in my big rough hands

Sleeping peacefully
in your bright little crib
a soft breathing sound
come from your tiny lips

I've dreamed of these moments
when you were in my womb
but God has other plans
and took you away so soon

I never saw your face
nor hear your first cry
you were gone from me
without knowing why

I cried so much that day
when i lost you to fate
you became an angel
to watch me from above 


Details | Quatrain |

Biding Its Time

She's just turned six year old and so
Her baby teeth are primed to go.
But one, reluctant to vamoose,
Just hangs in there, relaxed and loose.

Our Amy doesn't seem to mind. 
She is not the conceited kind,
And has more things to think about
Than a laggard tooth that won't fall out.

If you chance to see beguiling grin
With a tooth that is more out than in,
You have seen our Amy, there's no doubt
And her baby tooth that won't fall out.


Details | Quatrain |

More Agony

My friend I want you to know
 That happy for you I am
As before the coming snow
 You will have a baby in a pram.

Your shower today was nice
 I thought I could handle it.
But my heart is not ice
 For jeaousy I feel this I admit.

I feel like a loon
 My babies gone
No lullabies to croon
 No being woke at dawn.

I thought I could handle this
 Be here for my dear friend
But there is gaping abyss
 And I do not want to offend.

This your day to shine
 And do well to not frown
And to not even let out a whine
 Though in sorrow I drown.

I leave the shower
 My wounds to lick.
In my own space cower
 Pain in my heart does stick.

I am now alone 
 I lay here and cry.
In agony I moan
 And in misery I sigh.

I really am a lousy friend.
 For how can I feel sad?
How can I make amends
 and tell you why I am bad?

No more baby showers for me
 I cannot do this
To much pain for this to be
 For me there is no bliss.

My arms do so ache
 For the babies that are mine.
How much more pain can I take?
 How much longer will I pine?

Can anyone understand
 What I truly am?
A mother in no man's land
 Whose tears have broke the dam.

A mother who misses 
 Her children each day.
I miss thier kisses,
 Their bedlam and fun way.

Why can I not heal?
 Why must agony sear
And my fate and theirs seal
 For this I do fear.

I thought I was doing good
 But as you can see
This pain gets me where I stood
 And still gets the best of me.


Details | Quatrain |

Hush Now, Baby, Hush- RATED E

Hush now, baby, hush
The time to speak has passed
Draw in closer, love, to me
Let me feel you now at last

Hush now, baby, hush
Move in and touch my lips
Let your words be in your kiss
For honey from them drips

Hush now, baby, hush
Give your hands voice to speak
Can’t you sense, my darling man
That your presence makes me weak

Hush now, baby, hush
Let your body love convey
This message is well received
My own knows just what to say

Hush now….baby….h…u…s…h…
I am trembling to the core
Let my breathlessness and moans
Be my plea to ask for more

...........Hushhhhh............


Eileen Manassian Ghali

WHAT IS RATED E? Rated EILEEN! ;) Entertaining.....HOPEFULLY! Sensual...MY way!


Details | Quatrain |

A Muddy Gerber Baby

My mommy used to tell me that
I had such tiny toes
Which she counted, one to ten
While tapping my little nose.

It was difficult to believe it;
How could I have been so small?
To fit in tiny booties and slippers
I could not believe at all. 

Until one day I took a look
At the album my mum had found.
It showed: me dressed in diapers and
Some mud from off the ground.

If I knew I was dirty, I didn't care
Or my disdain was shown as a grin
And ten tiny toes all curled around 
The same mud I stood in.

Such memories I still cannot recall
But I must believe it to be true.
I still don't think I fit in those booties.
(In that picture I had no shoes!)



The picture I used was one of me when I was 

two or three years old. I was standing in my 

grandma's garden, muddy but smiling with 

little dimples. Good times, good times.


12