Babysat Poems | Examples

when I was sweet sixteen

At sweet sixteen, I had a job at a supermarket
Worked after school until nine
my boyfriend worked at a competing grocery
at a quarter until nine he came over and sacked
to get me out of there sooner
People said "Joe, aren't you at the wrong store?"
This was a small town.

On weekends I babysat.
Back in the day we were paid $1.25 at the grocery store.
Babysitting paid a quarter an hour for six children.
I was not getting rich, but I was getting experience
and money for college.

Crumbs and Flowers

my aunt
babysat 
me when I was five
she's one hundred years old now
we gave crumbs to birds and flowers to a grave

My Court Date Awaits

Flying a kite in an electrical storm
      Frying an egg in the desert sand
   Parachuting into a big, red barn
      Pitching a tent in quicksand

   My army training prepared me well
      Stayed calm midst crises, never yelled
   The consummate pro... 'til I babysat five kids one night
      Said, "Go to sleep now, kids," and turned out the lights

Children

As I jump up
And twirl me self a round.
It always nice 
To hear the laugher from
Children it a wonderful sound.
As I run through the grass
Chasing a child I babysat,
Watching the wind blow
Through her hair.
It seem in life I don't have
A worry or care.
As I walk across  my 
Kitchen floor.
Giving lunch for the children
I take care of.
While wiping jelly off there face.
Or maybe a milk mustache 
Off there face i must erase.
As I sit and read a book
To a child on my lap,
Just before they take
There nap.
It our quiet time,
Reading helps us all
Unwind.
As I open up my front door,
Mommy here,
The children always hears
Those words loud and clear.
As I wave good bye
I think about God
And ask why.
Was this child brought to me.
To babysit you see.
The answer I always hear?
It always for the child or family.
It not just money for me.
Later as I read my bible
Just after I climb
Into bed.
I say thank you lord
For this day.
And for all the children
In my life you bring
My way.
I hope I helped 
As they laughed
and played..

She Who Savored Seasons

I picture Phyllis – soft and lovely face,
a smile dimpled sweet and luminous;
her fuchsia lips drop syllable in lace.
She carries grace, for God was generous.
In matter of the heart, a lucky one -
revered was she by two who loved her true.
Each one, a moon, they yielded to her sun
and cherished her until their days were through.
The first beloved she bid adieu late spring.
Though cancer stole his life, he’d left his seed.
She wed a second love, which eased death’s sting.
From summer on, sweet joy would then proceed.
Her sons are grown, her late adored – a ghost.
But she has savored seasons more than most.

*This was inspired by a church woman whose boys
 I babysat in my youth. She remained a stunning 
beauty even into her old age.

May 22, 2023
For Sotto Poet's Sonnet Poetry Contest

A Forties Woman

She was a forties woman thrown into another era
We had no idea that she wanted to be a para
She was dressed exotically with a veil on her face
Her hair would have reveled an alien’s in space

She was a forties woman who appeared shy and kept quiet
No matter how crazy our children, even if they caused a riot.
We would not have known her name if she had not given us a resume.
She maintained an even-keel status each and every day.

She was a forties woman who babysat our children and more.
The last I counted she was watching up to eighty-four.
In between watching she liked to wash and iron clothes.
Where this freak came from, none of us knows.

Insatiably Needing Angels

Cluster, clan, hanging bunch of grapes
   -    bustling collection children I dreamed
   -    Far from rationale, imagination run wild
   -    Adult life ridicules, idea is far less esteemed


  When I babysat, pretended they were mine
   -    even the Asian one. Try to stop my stories! 
   -    Wanted to be seen at sixteen as their mother 
   -    Saw caregiving and fun sharer as ultimate glory


   Perhaps a great majority of girls feel the same
    -  playing with dolls, structured, serious business 
    -  But of course, options are much more enlightening
    -  High valued career compared to the longing within us


  Being tied to a community, sweet trip indeed! 
   -   commitment delivered, rewarded for decades
   -   Blink away your tears, perfection, I'm always here
   -   Each Mother knows her gratitude returned in spades





11th November

My Sister's Dog

Love for my sis makes me like her own Bolshevik
so though I would rather swallow a stranger's lipstick,
I babysat her ground-dweller - her dog - named Limerick.

Once - outside while his wiz-biz defied arithmetic,
I noticed he had one gross fully plump black tick.
All that was nearby were pliers and a yardstick.
When he suddenly rolled over, my reaction was slick -
I grabbed up the pliers and I surely grabbed quick
before thoughts of bloody surgery made me sick.
Limerick was still while I pinched at my gross vic.
I pulled but that slimy tic bugger was too slick.
Over and over, I failed at click, pull and then flick.
When limerick cried out and gave me a tender lick
I called for my husband to join our happy picnic.

He examined Limerick who whined long and thick
then laughed, Honey, he said, you funny lunatic -
You have been pulling at a mole, poor dog has no tick

Sorrow Still Lingers

It hasn’t been so long, you know.
Since I saw, your eyes aglow.
. . . They smiled a little smile for me.

You had your joy, you had your fun.
You had fifteen seasons in the sun.
. . . I didn’t know that you would leave me.

The backyard swing still sways lonely.
Since the day you rode it boldly.
. . . Save a swing sway there for me.

The more and more I think about you.
There was magical love all around you.
. . . The room is now empty, except for me.

Your love is in the trees, wind and snow.
Yes in the streams when I watch them flow.
. . . Heartache and regret, still follow me.

I’m sorry, I never spoke of the little details.
You were so busy with songs and puppy dog tails.
. . . I wish it were, six carryin’ me.


Written for a girl of nearly four.  My son was born at the same time my lady friend  had twin girls born, and I babysat all 3 quite often.  One girl had neuroblastoma [cancer of the blood] and so I also helped them for her last 2 years, Kristen always had a smile, even as she lay with her body of orange, slowly passing.

That Night - Long Ago

I babysat her that fine day-
   wrapped up so snug in pink and white.
      The scent of baby powder lay
upon her skin- such soft delight.

Just for an hour, while her dear mom
   went out for errands to be done,
      I rocked and sang to her, so calm,
on their back porch, neath autumn's sun.

Next morn- loud sobbing, I did hear-
   a living nightmare had come true.
      Just two weeks old- a dreaded fear
turned joy to sadness- impromptu.

I babysat her that fine day
   wrapped up so snug in pink and white.
      The scent of baby powder lay-
crib death took her away that night.


Sandra M. Haight

True Story - happened September 1958,
to our dear friends, next door - haunts
me still to this day.

Five Three Eight

Five Three Eight 
In that order
See it all the time
Reminding me of Stan, a really wonderful man
Who was not great at business

I worked for him as a cashier when I was sixteen
He always had a smile but was new in town
Almost no one shopped in our store 
Because he was new
He was so happy when 
anyone came in
I felt so sad for him

I babysat for him and his wife sometimes
Their children were darling cute and smart
Two, four and six, all knock-offs of him and his wife
A cute couple, sweet, but neither realizing
Small town USA is not open to newcomers
Five Three Eight

His store number
The thing that killed him
At a young age 
The night before his grandson was born
May third, two thousand and eight
The same as his store number

Granny's Undies

granny always showed her undies
she babysat me on sundays
they had red poke-dots
that covered a lot
granny said it was our fun days

Bawdy Limerick Contest - Let's keep it PG-13 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
5/20/19
8 8 5 5 8

What Is Lay a Way

Lay away.
I had never heard the term
Until I saw a friend use it. We were in seventh grade.
We had both fallen in love with a purse with large ugly brown beads attached to the side.
Hers was blonde, mine was orange.
		I lamented I could not have it.
		Lay a way, she chanted. Lay a way! Lay a way!
		I had never heard of it.
This is where you put three dollars down, 
	The only three dollars you have,
	Your babysitting money that used to come hard back then, when
	We babysat a family of six for twenty-five cents an hour.
	And you have to come back to the store and pay the rest of the money in installments
	Until you are finally finished plunking down the whole twelve dollars.
		Her mother had taught her,
		And she taught me.
		It nearly worried me to death.
		Scared I would never get the rest of the money to them.
	Knowing not only would the purse not be mine
		But that if I could not scrounge up the
		Rest of the cash, I just lost twelve hours 
		Worth of babysitting six children.

Haunted - Emotive Write

FICTION WRITE FOR CONTEST

For so many years I’ve lived with the shame
Kept it locked in the sullen depths of my soul
He took my virginity; I can’t be held to blame
I was so very young, just an innocent child
when he babysat at night and my body defiled.
He stole my childhood; I can never be whole

You've accused me of lies, bitter vitriolic lies
when I first told you of my uncle’s abuse
I’ll never forget the haunted look in your eyes
when the police officer confirmed it was true.
He confessed there’d been other children too,
you sobbed for not protecting me. It’s of no use

Rhyme time I contest
Sponsored by Laura Loo

cHECKED WITH RHYMEZONE

3/29/18

The Superman

I have babysat a roomful of six year olds, 
my heart beating louder than a pack of screaming hyenas.

I walked out with them quiet and safe in their parents arms.

I improvised a speech to an audience of millionaire entrepreneurs 
that ended in a standing 'O'.

Often I danced with titanic sharks, 
and even French Kissed Killer Whales.

I have slept deep in the grip of ink black jungles 
on mid summer nights, no dream.

Once I hung on with two broken arms
five hundred feet above my demise, without a whimper.

I skated through fields of dead bodies
in not just one but two very nasty wars.

Played tag with the devil and in the end hung 
his left horn above my fireplace, 
yeah my fireplace I owed him that.

I swam naked on the crest of a waterfall
from the top of its peak to the concrete sheet at its bottom.

Many times, I have partied with death,
her bones drenched in the fluids of our perverse acts, 
but not once did she leave the party with me on her arm.

But please,

p
p
p
p
p p p please,

don't,

please don't,

make me talk to my EX-WIFE again!



10~10~2014

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