Beautiful Baby Poems | Examples
These Beautiful Baby poems are examples of Baby poems about Beautiful. These are the best examples of Baby Beautiful poems written by international poets.
Though eminently computable,
born in silicon fog,
it's a baby that's not beautiful,
a disloyal, faithless dog.
It's a welcome to an empty room,
a monster's sightless eye,
a bottle of cheap perfume -
the poetry of AI.
Do that thing I like
How did you bring heaven home?
The ocean is warm
A little life, a brand-new start,
Placed gently in a parent’s heart.
We ask for peace to guard their way,
And wrap them safely night and day.
May God grant wisdom deep and clear,
To guide their steps through every year.
With open doors and pathways bright,
And opportunity in sight.
With tiny hands and eyes so wide,
May heavenly favor be their guide.
A gift of hope, a love so true,
We bless this little life anew.
“I think scars are like battle wounds-beautiful in a way. They show what you’ve been through and how strong you are for coming out of it.”
Demi Lovato
Love has a broad reach
It’s truly magical and deep
With power to bring about peace
It boldens the shy and meek
A broad reach it can create
With warm touch procreate
And continue in a face
Blended like a copy a babe
A broad reach it is divine
Love gives sight to blind
It’s not selfish and it’s kind
True love stands test of time
Love each other and self as well
Create heaven on earth avoid hell
GOD'S LITTLE NEW DAUGHTER
Emberlyn Rain Barber
Beautiful young birth;
From the heavens,
Onto the world earth;
May the village
God, little new daughter
Father God and Angels;
Entire family, Mom and Dad;
Be thankful, rejoice, and celebrate;
This birth date so precious.
Beautiful new birth
God's little new daughter
EMBERLYN RAIN BARBER;
God's little new daughter;
We celebrate this birth.
Of EMBERLYN RAIN BARBER;
4/20/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
A Thing Of Beauty part I
To beautify her furthermore
would take divine intervention
baby girl so long ago, I did adore
all grown with baby of her own
O forevermore, dusky jewel
beyond celestial dimension,
of generations hers & ours sewn
impervious love thru time & space
the cosmos, yours
meteor showers cannot erase
Baby
Blossom fair gently coos
Beguiling hearth with charm ,
Bubbly as morning dew
Born from heaven's cradle :
Bright smiles make me quiver
Blushing...dimpled cheeks roll
Bundle of pink enthralls!
Today is the Special Day we've been waiting for. It's Christmas. And I am glad to be a part of it. It is a beautiful day and glorious for the Christ was born and we celebrate in style. It is the most perfect day in the year. Red, Green and Gold are the colors of the season. It has not snowed yet, but it's coming I'm told. Yes, this is my favorite time of the year, There's Love, Music and eating and all just perfect Joy. Thank you, Jesus for being born on this day. Thank you, Jesus for just being. Thank you, Lord for coming into our lives.
Hallelujah, Halleilujah
You are the only King we have.
moving day across town
I was incredibly busy
With two babies
moved much of the boxes by myself
babies were three and two
They took turns running around boxes
fighting over tape, laughing at the emptiness of both houses
I was exhausted, but happy about the move
We were moving from one rental to another
But it was bigger, and I had plans for it
I debated about the mirror
It was old and beautiful
Could I carry it by myself?
I decided to try.
As I came out of the house I saw this
The three-year-old was lowering the two-year-old out of the car
I had to make a choice.
I dropped the mirror and ran to save the two-year-old
from possibly hitting her head on the sidewalk
beautiful gift
lord has given me;
enriching my life again...
second daughter to dote on!
so thankful I am,
every day; fatherhood is...
d i v i n e!
Blue-eyed baby.
Eyes as blue as the ocean.
Hair as blonde as the sand at the shore.
Blue-eyed baby, how you’ve changed my world.
Blue-eyed boy, how you’ve grown.
How I love you more than all the shells in the sea.
Shine, my beautiful blue-eyed boy, may you brighten the day of everyone you meet as you have brightened my whole world.
My blue-eyed boy.
For My Darling Little Sister, My Punky
I gave Him all thanks when she was born,
my sweet event, my newborn, babe sis.
All that she did, did my heart adorn.
Loving her when seven was valued bliss.
I brought Mom warm wash cloths each change time,
and told her when new bottles were prime.
Joy was snuggling her in bed or a chair.
My Elizabeth Jane's skin was fair,
with a cute button nose and eyes sky blue.
Five ten's have passed and my sis' love stays true.
"The stars beckoned her song to reach the crescent moon"
The song is sacred her heart broken black and doomed
You see the sun set upon her head making mockery
For her newborn was stillborn oh the hypocrisy
Her song was supposed to reach God and bless hearts
Instead it was one of agony and silver suffering sobs
The light of the crescent moon came through the room
As if death is beautiful weaving tears in a loon
As if her baby is an angel too soon
Amethyst jewels a wedding ring
Blue birds song happy to sing
Cotton clouds in the sky in spring
Denim allowed in my casual dream
Ebony eyes in a baby face
First prize in a poetic race
Green grass between my toes
Happiest laughs from heart of gold
Inspiring testimony from lives lived
Joy and mercy my God gives
Kente cloth all colorful and soft
Lavender and lilies in my loft
Melodic music of various speeds
Optimistic people are an awesome breed
Purple is a color I love
Quietly I watch a beautiful dove
Rainbows and roses make me grin
Smiling profiling handsome men
Thoughts of love despite pain
Universal hugs create positive change
Whimsical thoughts and literature
X-ray and hope for diseases cure
You’re still reading makes my heart lift
Zero taxes to pay is a gift
I wake up in a room full of mirrors,
a funhouse of distortion
where reality is blurred.
I gasp, for in one of the mirrors,
I see a young version of me—
rocking and singing a lullaby
to my newborn baby girl,
with a full head of dark hair.
By my side, a little boy with blue eyes and blond hair—
a million-dollar family.
Sighing contently, I hold them close to me.
A muffled sound—sobbing—is heard in the distance,
the sound alarmingly familiar.
The mother sobs uncontrollably,
her graying hair and lines on her face
reveal a much older version of myself,
clutching to her heart
a picture of a beautiful, brown-eyed girl with dimples.
In the mirror, she reads: RIP.
The mirror doesn’t lie.