Unborn Baby Poems | Examples
These Unborn Baby poems are examples of Baby poems about Unborn. These are the best examples of Baby Unborn poems written by international poets.
In an instant,
one or more lives can be changed forever.
A car crosses the road,
now headed for a pick-up truck.
The driver, husband and father to be,
lies dead on the road.
The wife and mother to be will some how survive,
but will never be the same.
The unborn baby will also survive,
their lives will be changed forever.
Their loving mother will make hard choices,
this precious little one will be adopted out.
All three lives have been changed forever,
just one person caused all this pain.
We weep midst winter roses
of our collective mourning,
be it in springtime 's bloom,
or November rains.
The young women who died,
they wanted their unborn,
they spoke up for them,
planned for their births.
Yet, the icy barren souls of
the murderous fathers demanded
they get an abortion.
These brave mothers refused,
and became victims of a particularly
heinous prochoice violence.
It's more common than many care
to admit,
and families are left to grieve
precious people.
God's lamentation,
their mother's love treasured,
and their names engraved in
Heaven's life book.
Please don't forget these victims,
light a candle, say prayers,
as we weep midst winter roses
of our collective mourning. ~
The lunatics finally did it
And it’s gonna drive us all wild
A man has an x-ray in the NHS
They will ask if he may be with child
Picture the scene, it’s almost obscene
If x-rayed at some later date
They’ll ask if I’m pregnant and I will say, “No…
But, Doctor, I am a bit late.”
The doc’s chin will drop to the floor
The unborn rank high in their fears
He’ll ask me, “How late?” And I’ll calculate…
“It’s something like sixty-five years!”
I dreamt I was in a church,
I was walking up to the candlelit altar.
There were clergy garbed in vestments,
whether they were Catholic or Episcopal,
I don't recall.
A mourning Mass was about to begin.
I approached an open small mahogany coffin,
an infant lost to abortion was lying in it,
instead of the bassinet it deserved to be
born into.
I placed my hand tenderly on the
lacy-robed babe.
Suddenly, the baby stirred and came to life,
gently cooing as many babies do.
The Life Dream,
sweet omnipresent Christ,
our prayers for unborn and born children.
Your infants of the ages,
of the earth's mother's receiving bosoms.
Our sorrows become our joys,
we saved through Your grace-
more of Your precious ones today. ~
Crepuscular rays filtered through the trees:
Tall black cypresses around a dark shrine,
Evening grim bells toll as I feel the freeze,
Conscious the tomb covered with rambling vine,
While nocturnal butterflies just decline.
I could not help utter a maze of sighs,
My desolate unborn baby just lies,
Never forgotten, but always evoked
Except the woman who'll never get wise.
Cursed she'll be, an oath I never revoked.
Fiction
I am against abortion. But I am in favour of forgiving.
TO MY UNBORN CHILD, FOR THIS I WRITE
FOR THIS IS MY OATH TO YOU
INTO THIS GREAT AND VARIED WORLD
YOU'LL HAVE A PLACE AND A JOB TO DO
SO AS YOUR MOTHER I CAN OFFER ADVICE
HELP YOU TO FIND YOUR WAY
THROUGHOUT YOUR LIFE THERE IS MUCH TO LEARN
AND YOU'LL LEARN SOMETHING NEW EACH DAY
I WILL SHOW YOU UNCONDITIONAL LOVE
TEACH YOU ABOUT FRIENDSHIPS AND GRATITUDE
SHOW YOU VALUES AND HOW TO HAVE MORALS
COMPASSION, FORGIVENESS AND A POSITIVE ATTITUDE
IT'S IMPORTANT TO HAVE GOOD MANNERS
A PLEASE AND THANK YOU A MUST
BELIEVE THAT THERE IS ALWAYS GOOD
AND IN YOURSELF YOU MUST LOVE AND TRUST
FOR THESE ARE JUST SOME OF WHAT'S REQUIRED
AND YOU'LL LEARN ALONG THE WAY
FOR YOU TO HAVE A LIFE OF BLISS AND HAPPINESS
IT'S ALL THAT'S LEFT FOR ME TO SAY
HEAVEN IS A SPECIAL PLACE
In Honor of the Unborn
8/8/2023
A giggle Land where we cannot go.
0f pink fingers and crystal clear eyes
Forever azure springs and sunlit skies,
A place of talcum powdered souls.
Unaware, from this life, they were taken
God did create this oh, so special place.
Angels never let them know they were forsaken.
To keep a smile on their dear, tender infant faces.
Squeaky toys and cuddly, soft teddy bears.
Angel mothers do lullaby each newborn to sleep.
One day,with their Mommy,~ they might share
Meanwhile, in the still of the night, mothers weep.
Sleepless, they wonder, how is my child doing?
Their life always has a lost, dark empty space.
Does my baby need me, or is he just cooing?
The mother can ask for forgiveness and God’s grace.
But she wonders, very often what ‘s my baby playing?
You see, that is the story we are never told.
On her knees alone, each night, she is praying.
The Mother ages, lonely, shivering in the moonlit cold!
the stillborn baby, gone- then mother too;
wrapped arms 'round my unborn child.
Unborn child,
wear your crown with pride,
let no man rid you off your worth.
Listen closely to your inner voice,
it holds off no lies nor truths, stay true.
Pave your own way, let not yourself go,
there are far more things to get rid of.
Birth your passions to life,
they will help steer you to greater heights.
Lean not on naysayers, but to closer to motivators.
Live for You, stand tall,
Let no one taint your soul!
Let true love in, neglect what doesn't move you,
Let it be You who you fight for the most.
For You, I'd do the impossible and leave you one day,
to do to your Own.
I love You!
12 February 2023
"The 12 things you'd teach your child" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Matt Caliri
Ashes to ashes ,
Dust to dust,
Send me back to my unborn days,
Send me to save myself
From this horrible plot of my life
The terrible script of my story.
Send me back to delete the first scene of my life,
Ship me back to the past to switch off my tiny heartbeat, to cut the story short.
Nigh are the chronicles through infant lens
that begins its long unimagined page,
and behold, all the world to its far ends
shall in time be your playground and your stage.
But for now we wait in last days careworn
a labour of love and bounty of life -
on my honour I’ll welcome my firstborn
when in my keep I hold my son and wife.
Gift him the arts and mercies of 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.
Soon this big world you will enter my child
and soon a first breath and a firstborn smile.
Written: October 1999
For Oscar
The supreme(court) leaked its mysteries.
Into the face of purple mountain majesty.
Above the fruited rainbowed plains
from sea to shining sea....
The radical masses foamed at the mouth.
like November's rabid storm clouds.
"Our body our choice they screamed".
(Unless it involves experimental vaccines).
The hypocrisy ran like devil grease.
Into the eyes of blinded sheep...
The unborn were tossed a ring, into thrashing seas.
To breech the scythe of the Doc's Hippocratic hypocrisy.
Just above the dawning of a newborn's Dream.
The Maker is busy in heaven once more,
Like he has been a billion times before.
He is making you a gift that matches none,
Wait for ten months & it will be done.
The Angels whisper, "Do you think she is ready?"
The Maker smiles at them "It is up to me"
If her prayers are true, i will hear
If she keeps her faith in me, nothing to fear.
I have made this world, all Heaven & Earth,
And i have given her kind, the sacred duty of birth.
So that life can prevail & never ceases,
It is my wish, I give, I take, whatever pleases.
So prepare yourself, Oh! Adam's Eve,
For the divine gift from heaven, you will receive.
Be sure to endure a lot of pain,
A little sacrifice for the sunshine after the rain.
Weave your dreams & make your plans,
The heavenly unborn awaits and in my lap they dance.
(FRIDAY, AUGUST 10, 2007)
The winds settle
For a subtle breeze
The tide cedes
To a sandy beach
The light fades
From a lovely bead
And the mother weeps
For her unborn seed
Tethered to that moment
She shed tears
That time when her unborn child died
Heaven’s love bestowment
Brought no cheers
Crushed, teary-eyed…Oh! How she cried!
Doctors couldn’t save her child
Her heart failed
Those awaited baby times gone
Dreaming of her, she smiled
Then sore wailed
‘twas hard, but she had to move on
One day, she’d bear more kids
She had hope
Her God would not leave her bereft
She prayed with closed eyelids
She could cope
Though she’d ne’er forget her heart’s cleft
08.26.2021
Form: Tri-fall
{The Tri-fall, created by Jan Turner, consists three 6-line stanzas, for a total of 18 lines. The rhyme scheme is a,b,c,a,b,c and meter for each stanza is as follows: 6/3/8, 6/3/8. This form requires little to no punctuation and can be written on any subject matter.}
For Edward Ibeh's "This or That Vol.6" contest