He whom once I loved I now do hate
His words and actions shared a harsh disdain
Refusing to allow this bitter fate
My boundaries now exclude his bleak terrain.
To win me, he displayed a tender care;
with courtesy and flattery he disarmed.
Then when my heart was opened up and bare.
he suddenly removed his wondrous charm.
His harshness ,rigid mind and steely heart
Showed him a terrorist in my own sweet lands;
For, suddenly, our love he broke apart
And empty was my once outstretched hand.
Beware of charm and love bestowed too soon
Or you may likewise suffer dread and doom
Hush little baby it's time to sleep
Angels watching over you don't you peep
Listen little dreamer hear this song
Angels watching over you so nothing wrong
Sleep little baby you had your play
Angels watching over you it's time to pray
Now it's time to sleep it's all right
Angels watching over you to keep you tight
Soft is your bed now rest your head
Angels watching over you are by your bed
Now close your eyes and go to sleep
Angels watching over you your soul to keep
Sleep little baby you're about to gleam
Angels watching over you to safely dream
Edward J Ebbs - 10/23/11
Sonnet (little song - 14 lines)
Meant to be sung as a Lullaby to a child...
She wanted a baby more than life
So she went and booyah’d 50 guys
Her smile dazzled everyone she met
When she finally learned she was pregnant
Her breasts grew larger, her belly too
She decorated the nursery with pink and blue
But at the doctors, something was amiss
The only sound was the instrument’s hiss
There wasn’t a heartbeat; her eyes grew wide
“Doctor is my baby, dead inside?”
“Let’s do a sonogram, see what it shows”
But his eyes were sad, his movements slow
As the sonogram screen lit up the womb
It wasn’t as they’d thought, a baby’s tomb
Because in fact, there was no baby there
Just an aching hole, and a woman’s despair
Our rising worship! Oh, perfect love of Mother and Child
is understood by adoring eyes. Eager hearts pray,
from the eternal breath of babe. Lifted high, strong yet mild,
He foretells of forgiveness and whispers agape.
Upon Mary's chest, lie His heavenly dreams -
a love of no measure born unto a Virgin
and sins evermore are assuredly redeemed
as God's blessed Mother cradles creation.
Her womb brought forth Light, the Savior of man.
Her gentle touch nurtured God's only Son.
The sacrifice, His blood shed to quench a dry land.
Prophecy fulfilled, so no soul shall be shunned.
Inspire us precious babe upon Mary's chest.
Mother's unfailing love gives comfort and rest.
*Inspired by Anguissola's Virgin and Child.
Which love is not a struggle to the mind?
Tis easier to think love glides along,
regardless of a road not there to find,
or never caring what is right or wrong.
One love, of child, a father's steady hand,
protecting innocence, through many years
as if he knew the way, and had it planned,
to heal each mortal wound as it appears,
as if all things begin with his okay,
the good, the joy of life to build upon;
demanding right, and hoping in some way
he's always with you, even when he's gone.
The banged up knee, your losing of a friend,
are yours to feel, but his to comprehend.
© ron wilson aka veebdosa the doylestown poet
I will tell of love in fourteen short lines
Remember when you chipped bone in kneecap
So much pain for you and me nothing fine
Knee pain for you for me nausea trap
You had surgery, nausea had me
One baby in arms another womb bound
When you came home, total care you no glee
Beside chamber nausea vomit round
Daily existence for weeks ugly trap
Baby, husband's care between nausea
Holding baby my only relief gap
Situation had me deep undersea
Love is deep when one gives beyond their strength
Giving beyond the call of duty is youngth
(Another Name for Gen Y(My Generation)
Beer goggles and Whiskey Rivers,
Pain numbing remedies that exude depression,
Marijuana oxygen and pain killer shivers,
Innocent faces with devilish expression,
Blood red eyes with cocaine explanations,
White lies, cooked up in haste,
For the aforementioned, sell your feelings for a taste!
Young lady, young lady, impossible to find,
What has become of “Daddy’s Little Girl?”
Grew up as billboard, all body and no mind,
Succumbed to degradation just to fit in this world,
Princess? No More!
With bitter wounds and sans support,
Responds to “bxxch” labeled as “whore”
Sex for poison and sex for sport!
Young man, young man, could you bear to walk alone?
With choreographed legs and clay molded spine?
Quoting the majority, speaking with your friends’ tone,
Holding onto shirttails while blindly disregarding lines,
Unprotected sex just to help you feel alive,
Forced to buy diapers with the pennies you have earned,
From one into intoxicated night you did not want to be deprived,
Came a baby by a girl whose name you had to learn!
Young lady, Young man, both working like a slave,
To provide for a family that neither wished to know,
They scream as their dreams get sealed within a grave,
Essential sacrifices because the baby has to grow,
A self-destructive generation, corrupted and vexed,
Generation Y, is Generation XXX
She had the world in her eyes yet you could see through
A windowpane leading to a brick wall.
All I wanted was my notions, passions to ring true
Through her voice, lips, lust, despite myself I fall.
I can hear her haunting voice still in my head.
I can feel her fingertips flowing intertwined with mine.
The smell, scent, sadness lingers still in bed.
I could have seen it coming, she gave me a sign.
Yet to have and to hold, she inquired.
Despite myself, I inquired as well;
Nothing held, nothing had is what's transpired.
I can only blame me, too easily I fell.
Yet, here I stand, open-book.
She HAS the world in her eyes, if she'd just look.
Nigh are the chronicles through infant lens
That slowly begin its voluminous page;
And behold, all the world to its far ends
Shall in time be your playground and your stage!
This chance redemption that was once forlorn
Was made in forethought and noble pursuit:
On this honour I welcome my first born,
And in my keep and charge will not refute.
Gift him the mercy common to good men,
Make heard his voice over the bark of most
And not want for love or false praise ask - then
My boy, my son, I'll have no prouder boast.
This be the first step in the longest mile,
And the longest wait for my unborn child.
Inside my stomach I feel the flutters, I don't know what to think
so I watch other mothers.
Our future uncertain - yet an exciting mystery.
I can not wait to meet you, I wonder if you will look like me!
A child's love I have been told is the purest kind of love, like gold.
Is it true? I hope I feel such love from you.
Of course I'm nervous and scared, but if you think I'm bad,
well you should see your dad!
He loves you already, that is what he often tells me.
In nine months time the mystery will be solved,
October will be a time for smiles with all involved.
(any advice would be helpful)
In my hour of fatherly ambition
Long I dwelt on my fields of battles fought:
Arrow, not of peace, but pale attrition
Might slowly pierce my last refuge methought.
Yet, having crossed my Rubicon, I wait
In new beginnings - in love's boons to be!
Where new battles will rage and punctuate
The fullness of time in his century:
Thus to that cause I heart and soul commend,
And unexampled favour bears me more -
That, in my child, I have a son and friend
Who fills in me what was missing before.
Now march on "Daddy" millennia years
For I am no stranger to strange affairs.
I look at her picture ... she'll never grow old.
A feathered headband on her small, downy head.
The pain will lessen, that's what we've been told
but we've so few memories of a babe , now dead.
Scarlett of name, a moniker bold,
for such a wee thing, fragile and young.
She won't grow into the name, will never grow old.
Won't learn to walk or talk or ever have fun.
I look at her picture, tears brimming my eyes.
She sleeps so peacefully in repose.
They say time will heal but I believe it's all lies.
The grief that we feel, no one really knows.
Her unbearable beauty left scars on our hearts.
On the day God reclaimed her ... we all fell apart.
All smelling sweet with powder and of milk
‘Tis time to cuddle in your cosy bed
Mid golden hair that feels like watered silk
Are kisses showered on your curly head
Now comes the hour when soft the lamplight glows
And casts an evening shadow on the wall
Your baby cheeks are lightly brushed with rose
No more the dew from drowsy eyelids fall
So hush now babe there is no fear of harm
To dreamland, drifting slowly, you will creep
The hands that hold you closely, safe and warm
Will rock you gently til you fall asleep
The clear blue eyes in peaceful slumber close
And little baby sleeps in sweet repose
I sing a song to you baby of mine.
You’re dreaming of adorably sweet things.
You safely rest on soft clouds as you lie,
And angels hold you in their feathered wings.
You’re new from Heaven and still have the scent
That you have carried down to Earth to share.
I wish you could speak of stories you know
Of folks we loved who now await us there.
My darling, in my arms you’re warm and safe.
We rock slowly to a sweet melody.
I’m so grateful to God that you’re the one
He has so lovingly chosen for me.
You will soon wake to find Mommy is near.
Sleep little baby with nothing to fear.
come up ta my crib, he adlibbed
bump bellies wid me, wid what god gived
we’ll part da sheets likes Moses sea
little mama we’ll be on a kissin spree
we’ll drink some wine and smoke some grass
invite in d’ crew and make some cash
and by dat neon light shining
dhey’ll be some booty reclining
hell wid the flowers get the stash
‘fore the po po come ‘rest ‘ur arse
bump jeans wid me baby y’ur so fine
don’t pay no ‘tention to the line
be my Baby Momma its aight
maybe ‘ll take you home tonight
*An inner city parody of Come Live with me and be my Love by Christopher Marlowe
There was pain like glass going through fresh new born skin.
It was in and out and out and in again. Like an outlet you plugged yourself
Into me but I never felt the electricity. All that I felt was numbness.
You always spoke in such circles, it was often so redundant.
Like a baby learning to talk you kept repeating words like “I love you”.
But you hid me away like you were ashamed, I felt like your diary.
And even though you’re gone I can still feel you tittering inside of me.
She kicks hard on my newly rounded belly.
And even though you hurt me I still melt inside like jelly just thinking of you.
This baby inside me grows bigger each day.
I pace back in forward through my house searching like someone whose lose their keys.
She will be searching for her father and I will be searching through yesterday.
The calendar blows in the wind. The Pages are turning years, month, memories, and the
An omnipotent'd been ideated by militant clan,
Aeons tell how it put them through a social pace.
To set up abode or to relate races with astute plan,
God had its genesis;women-men needed it to seek solace.
As fact a woman conceives, is manifest
Man couldn't conceive of anything but God for law and lex.
Dyed-in-the-wool,they kept bending head for mending mind lest
They vex orders of war, worship and women for sex.
But missile killed gravid woman with faded hue,
Her baby survived in placenta of its mom of Gaza:
A whole race, policies, religion; yet nothing to rue,
As if all were busy computing to bring future bonanza.
No more sacred are our Temple and Church or Mosque and tomb.
Truth says:fetus Jesus'd been bestowed on Mary's womb!
The twinkling sky sings bedtime now draws near.
Sweet thoughts shall bless your night; so, do not fear.
Sleep soundly ‘til tomorrow does appear.
Wake up refreshed and playful, baby dear.
The wishing angel visits in your dreams.
There lollipops are chasing new moonbeams.
And ice cream floats upon the winding streams,
Until tomorrow ushers in sunbeams –
Tonight, my child, sleep tight; enjoy your rest.
Dreamland shall bring success to every quest.
Tomorrow shall be brightly filled with zest.
I love you, little baby; God has blest.
So, close your eyes and sleep; I am near.
And God shall keep you safe my baby dear.
© November 7, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Lullabies...
Sponsored by: Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
Of all the wonders in the world to share
the moment you awaken, with your sighs,
speaks to my heart that you have been somewhere
agathering the love there in your eyes.
I think you wake to spread this happiness
to those in need of you, and I am one,
see how it warms my heart, as if, I guess,
you feel our need your love depends upon.
I know what you've been saying's very clear
for have we all not said these very things?
each sound of baby talk, the heart can hear
and understand for all the love it sings.
Our wonder is in all your love can do
each time your eyes awake, revealing you.
....© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
'Twas early spring in my thirty-ninth year
When that which I covet most brought new lease:
And on my first watch would elated stare
Upon worshipped eyes shut in newborn peace.
Thirty-nine years before first gazed my own -
My tiny hands clutched in my father's palms:
O but that love was hidden and not shown,
And thus I shall spare you no such alarms!
In your helpless lay - in first sleep of babes,
The future becomes yours, and now I trust
I will see your own before my life trades -
And remember to wait if wait I must.
When I look at you looking back at me
I see an avatar of God's glory.
By the raised light of Thor at rainbow's end,
On first calendar moons of Mars - a son
Born of this earth and time, and I portend
A new age of blessing is now begun!
From first kicks in utero to gorged teat...
The nuance of Joy! Love! And Piety!
So begins uncertain and incomplete
Till miraculous days for all to see.
O babe in arms - beautiful child: my vow
Is to mind and hold, to acquaintance seek:
To feel soft against mine your heart and brow,
And kiss those sleepy lids and milky cheek.
So hearken, when tiny almond eyes peep,
Papa's birthday vows: - vows I mean to keep.
Thor - the Norse god of thunder from which
Thursday is derived.
Mars - the Roman god of war after which the
month of March is named.
It is a long river goes on till water meets the sky
and as I have no oars have to follow the waterway
till the place when all things are the same
Nirvana, some people say other calls its nothingness.
But there rivers that run into the sand
never given the chance to flow and dream of becoming
a Nile or an Amazon.... Stillborn they are.
The lucky river runs deep underground and has fish
with no eyes and frogs white as new fallen snow.
The river ends up in a lake where fishtailed women live.
If you stop and listen you can hear the lake sigh and
the river throbs, it never misses a beat.
Mermaids have no uterus cannot bear children and
lament that sex is more important than babies.