We’re joyful of the bassinet,
And fearful of the casket.
One, a place where life is new,
The other where the body’s through.
Bassinets, though temporary
Start a life’s eternal tarry.
Bassinets reveal new birth,
And caskets case a family’s mirth.
In bassinets, lie new creations,
While caskets are a demarcation:
A point in time when death imparts
Eternity as flesh departs.
In silence, contemplate the casket
Then voice the question if you’ll ask it:
We all have had our bassinets,
But who is ready for the casket?
Our time on earth is fleeting, feign;
For after death, forever reigns.
Bassinets begin life’s option:
To follow God and His adoption.
Set not your heart on passing pleasures,
But seek the Lord’s eternal treasures.
So when a casket lays you down,
You’ll rise again, forever crowned.
Psalm 49:15 “But God will redeem my life from the grave;
he will surely take me to himself. Selah NIV
What They're Furries!!!!!!!
Kids identify that they are pets
Do they sleep in fur lined bassinets
And if they get a chill
Or are feeling quite ill
Do doctors treat them or do vets?
If one crawled in my classroom today
Then needed to pee I would say
“Don’t cock your leg by the door
Or do your poop on the floor”
I’d insist they use a litter tray
I’m allergic to animal fur
I'd worry if student's bark or purr
MY bark's worse than my bite
Furries in schools ain't right
I wonder if others concur!
WTF Contest
(I Wish I could use the real ‘WTF’ for my title!)
Sponsored by John Lawless
05/26/23
Against the setting sun, tall trees are silhouettes
The sparrows circle, then swoop down,
to gather leaves, and violets
They'll work to form their woven nests
Small fragrant bassinets
A sun slides down to take a rest,
and leaves a crimson crown
So gently, then, without a sound, light fades behind the hills
Our ills are left behind, as well.....'till darkness slips around
______________________________________________________________
For Contest #236
Sponsor: Brian Strand
The bassinets in line before the window…
Little packages of hope for the human race,
Through the glass the reflection of love..
The ever-hopeful cycle of man taking place.
Every little face beloved by eyes that see
The babe, the child, the promise of the young.
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker..
Each of these children a precious song to be sung.
To watchful eyes the daily scene unfolds,
To the nurse the proud privilege of the day.
To care for new life with love and faith..
And safely send each one on its life’s way.
Barbara Gorelick-It was my privilege to work in the nursery for over 20 yrs.
The best job I ever loved
Hello winter, you're a little late.
Have a seat; I'll make some tea
to warm your icy face.
Could you ease up a bit this season?
See that old man with paper eyes
and dance less bones...
He can't wield the spade anymore...
He's a couple of carrots and an old blue tic
beyond alone.
A long time ago you smeared black ice
under layers of God snow...
caught him off guard.
...slid him into hell
severed what he loved:
Toboggan rides
candle-lit eyes
white gowns and vows aflutter.
Now, every snowflake is the same.
A devil's dagger to his mind.
White picket fence and bassinets
buried beneath the blackest ice.
Well, I can see by your silent, ice-blue eyes.
that you haven't changed a lick.
A prick is a prick is a Prick...
So go ahead, lay it on good and thick.
I'll sling the spade and pick for him,
Thaw his heart with small flower talk.
Melt your soul with fists of salt.
I'll make the old man an earth-strong cup of green tea...
So he can smell the sprigs of spring.
The bassinets in line before the window…
Little packages of hope for the human race,
Through the glass the reflection of love..
The ever-hopeful cycle of man taking place.
Every little face beloved by eyes that see
The babe, the child, the promise of the young.
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker..
Each of these children a precious song to be sung.
To watchful eyes the daily scene unfolds,
To the nurse the proud privilege of the day.
To care for new life with love and faith..
And safely send each one on its life’s way.
It was my privilege to work in the nursery for over 20 yrs.
The best job I ever loved
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.