Get Your Premium Membership

Poems about Children

Poems about Children The Desk by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy There is a child I used to know who sat, perhaps, at this same desk where you sit now, and made a mess of things sometimes.I wonder how he learned at all... He saw T-Rexes down the hall and dreamed of trains and cars and wrecks. He dribbled phantom basketballs, shot spitwads at his schoolmates' necks. He played with pasty Elmer's glue (and sometimes got the glue on you!). He earned the nickname "teacher's PEST." His mother had to come to school because he broke the golden rule. He dreaded each and every test. But something happened in the fall— he grew up big and straight and tall, and now his desk is far too small; so you can have it. One thing, though— one swirling autumn, one bright snow, one gooey tube of Elmer's glue... and you'll outgrow this old desk, too. A True Story by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy Jeremy hit the ball today, over the fence and far away. So very, very far away a neighbor had to toss it back. (She thought it was an air attack!) Jeremy hit the ball so hard it flew across our neighbor's yard. So very hard across her yard the bat that boomed a mighty "THWACK! " now shows an eensy-teensy crack. Originally published by TALESetc Success by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy We need our children to keep us humble between toast and marmalade; there is no time for a ticker-tape parade before bed, no award, no bright statuette to be delivered for mending skinned knees, no wild bursts of approval for shoveling snow. A kiss is the only approval they show; to leave us—the first great success they achieve. Picturebook Princess by Michael R. Burch for Keira We had a special visitor. Our world became suddenly brighter. She was such a charmer! Such a delighter! With her sparkly diamond slippers and the way her whole being glows, Keira's a picturebook princess from the points of her crown to the tips of her toes! The Aery Faery Princess by Michael R. Burch for Keira There once was a princess lighter than fluff made of such gossamer stuff— the down of a thistle, butterflies' wings, the faintest high note the hummingbird sings, moonbeams on garlands, strands of bright hair... I think she's just you when you're floating on air! Tallen the Mighty Thrower by Michael R. Burch Tallen the Mighty Thrower is a hero to turtles, geese, ducks... they splash and they cheer when he tosses bread near because, you know, eating grass sucks! Lullaby by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy Cherubic laugh; sly, impish grin; Angelic face; wild chimp within. It does not matter; sleep awhile As soft mirth tickles forth a smile. Gray moths will hum a lullaby Of feathery wings, then you and I Will wake together, by and by. Life's not long; those days are best Spent snuggled to a loving breast. The earth will wait; a sun-filled sky Will bronze lean muscle, by and by. Soon you will sing, and I will sigh, But sleep here, now, for you and I Know nothing but this lullaby. Sappho's Lullaby by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy Hushed yet melodic, the hills and the valleys sleep unaware of the nightingale's call, while the pale calla lilies lie listening, glistening . . . this is their night, the first night of fall. Son, tonight, a woman awaits you; she is more vibrant, more lovely than spring. She'll meet you in moonlight, soft and warm, all alone . . . then you'll know why the nightingale sings. Just yesterday the stars were afire; then how desire flashed through my veins! But now I am older; night has come, I’m alone . . . for you I will sing as the nightingale sings. Mother's Smile by Michael R. Burch There never was a fonder smile than mother's smile, no softer touch than mother's touch. So sleep awhile and know she loves you more than "much." So more than "much, " much more than "all." Though tender words, these do not speak of love at all, nor how we fall and mother's there, nor how we reach from nightmares in the ticking night and she is there to hold us tight. There never was a stronger back than father's back, that held our weight and lifted us, when we were small, and bore us till we reached the gate, then held our hands that first bright mile till we could run, and did, and flew. But, oh, a mother's tender smile will leap and follow after you! Keep Up by Michael R. Burch Keep Up! Daddy, I'm walking as fast as I can; I'll move much faster when I'm a man... Time unwinds as the heart reels, as cares and loss and grief plummet, as faith unfailing ascends the summit and heartache wheels like a leaf in the wind. Like a rickety cart wheel time revolves through the yellow dust, its creakiness revoking trust, its years emblazoned in cold hard steel. Keep Up! Son, I'm walking as fast as I can; take it easy on an old man. Reflex by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy Some intuition of her despair for her lost brood, as though a lost fragment of song torn from her flat breast, touched me there... I felt, unable to hear through the bright glass, the being within her melt as her unseemly tirade left a feather or two adrift on the wind-ruffled air. Where she will go, how we all err, why we all fear for the lives of our children, I cannot pretend to know. But, O!, how the unappeased glare of omnivorous sun over crimson-flecked snow makes me wish you were here. Passages on Fatherhood by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy He is my treasure, and by his happiness I measure my own worth. Four years old, with diamonds and gold bejeweled in his soul. His cherubic beauty is felicity to simplicity and passion— for a baseball thrown or an ice-cream cone or eggshell-blue skies. It's hard to be "wise" when the years career through our lives and bees in their hives test faith and belief while Time, the great thief, with each falling leaf foreshadows grief. The wisdom of the ages and prophets and mages and doddering sages is useless unless it encompasses this: his kiss.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.