Best Baby(A) Poems


Premium Member A Christmas Story

A Christmas Story

He looks at the cards hung over the fire
Suspended in air by the finest of wire
One from his wife, his children and friends
Christmas he loves and he’s sad when it ends

Ceilings are decked with the seasonal trim
The tree is all set, baubled to the brim
Presents are wrapped, all ready to give
It’s that time of year he loves to relive

He sits by the tree and a fire lit ball
The image reflects of the babe in the stall
A donkey is there, the parents look on
Surrounded by shepherds and kings in a throng

He see’s the whole story, slowly unfold
As each in their turn, gives baby a hold
And the great star above shines brightly and new
And the world is at peace for a moment or two

He then see’s the past when his children were young
The house full of laughter and carols were sung
When visitors called for a glass of best sherry
Good cheer was abroad and everyone merry

Now the children have grown and live far away
No more with new toys will he see them play
His wife had passed on, a long time before
Each year that passes, he misses her more

Then the ball on the tree shows him all alone
In the house that was once his family’s home
Rolls a tear from his eye, drips from his chin
Does somebody, somewhere, still think of him?

He leans back in his chair and his eye catches sight
Of the cards he hangs there each Christmas night
Suspended in air by the finest of wire
He looks at the old cards hung over the fire

A knock at the door brings him back to life
He answers and finds it’s the ghost of his wife
“They’re not coming to you, so we’ll go to them”
It’s our turn to travel to Bethlehem”

From my place on the tree, the room I survey
Though he’s still sitting there, he’s on his way
To watch over those he loves above all
But, he’ll never forget what he saw in this ball.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Treasure Shining

A silver creeping mist 
falling one cloud 
capping the mountain

Like a great waterfall 
in a faraway distance 
I began dreaming gold

Inside the vision silver fingers 
pointing out spears slowly 
crumbling forward 

Embracing one pure gift
relic treasure memory of love
Warm sweet glowing jewel in deep beauty
Happiness inside shining diamond  
joy beaming your sunshine baby a star 
lighting one gem brightly dazzles a pearl


I drew with a 6/stepping up waves to 9 syllable count then we reach cloud 9/9/9 10 is the perfect ending 10 out of 10 a mad way I am trying to draw a jewel

Young Star

Above the red horizon
she peeps to smile at me,
with buds in her tossed hair
lighting her warm glances.

My fingers sketch young eyes,
distant- blue across the clouds
as we cuddle in spirit
dear baby, a star.




Rhoma Em
Shine With Your Naani 
for nette onclaud--- 19th of June,2014
© Rhoma Em  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Ode


A Piece of Lace

[Verse-1]
I watched you walk by yesterday, and yes again you turned and looked away
You never give me the time of day, and you're always looking sad and grey
A small piece of lace from your pink dress, is all that's left of you and me
Wish I could take back yesterday, when I went astray and set you free
I wish I could find the words to say, instead of making you look away
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace

[Verse-2]
I know that I still need your love, because my heart is always feeling blue
And I guess I'll never be the same, for playing around and being untrue
You gotta know this isn't what I wanted, cause now I'm always on my knees
But I can see how you like your freedom, of being with him and not with me
But baby a twist of fate's what tore us apart, and placed this look upon my face
Oh! it's still funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace

[Chorus]
A piece of lace from your pink dress, keeps putting me down won't let me rest
And these cloudy skies are back today, holding my heart and soul at bay
I pray you come and take this lace, and wipe these tears from my face
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace

[Verse-3]
All those things that you used to do, is what made me fall in love with you
You gave me your all once upon a time, but like a fool I up and flew
And the things I went and said that day, made you fade and drift away
I never shoulda treated you that way, cause baby I need you here today
The sun keeps hiding behind the clouds, and all I do is sit and cry
And this piece of lace holds my heart at bay, I don't know...maybe it's a sign

[Chorus]
A piece of lace from your pink dress, keeps putting me down won't let me rest
And these cloudy skies are back today, holding my heart and soul at bay
I pray you come and take this lace, and wipe these tears from my face
Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace

Oh! It's funny how a little piece of lace, makes me yearn for your embrace
Form: Lyric

A Childs Prayer - God We Need To Talk

Tonight as my baby girl started to pray
She said God it's 8 O'Clock, 
And God We need to talk.
She said daddy help me pray, 
And daddy bow your head,
As we knelt beside her bed. 
she said God can you hear me?
Mommy always said you'd hear me,
If I would learn to pray, 
And that you would show me the way.

Well God I don't understand. 
Why you took my mommy away.
Daddy always says i'll understand, 
When I grow up some day.
She said God, you need your son. 
Well I need my mommy to,
And I know that my daddy, 
Would be happier with mommy. 
Cause daddy talks to her, 
And mommy's not even there.

God can you please,
Give my mommy wings, 
So she can come to see us.
She always kept our house clean, 
And God I know, 
She keeps your house clean to.
And God I miss mommy's big hugs, 
Daddy says your son gives hugs to.
So I know if my mommy had wings, 
She could hug me and daddy.

Well God I want to thank you,
For being there to listen, 
And God think about what I said.
And tell mommy that I love her, 
And God I love you to.
Oh just one more thing God, 
Help my daddy stop crying.
Thank you God, Amen, 
Then she turned to me and said,
Goodnight daddy, I love you.

I was still on my knees, 
Beside my little girls bed, 
With tears running from my eyes.
I gave my baby a goodnight kiss, 
And said sweet dreams baby girl.
Then I went to my room, 
And kissed my wife's picture, 
And with tears in my eyes,
I knelt down to pray, 
I said God, We need to talk.

Premium Member Paranoia Schizophrenia, a Sad Tale

The story, sad.
The man, sad.
The wife sad,
The children, sad.
The diagnosis, paranoia schizophrenia.
 
It happened to the man when he was twenty-nine.
He had a sweet family, everything going fine.
But then this threw him out of whack.
He never got his family back.
 
His young wife had no idea what was wrong.
He followed voices, singing a lonely song.
His eight-year-old daughter was confused.
She kept it to herself, a bit amused.
 
His new baby, a boy, grew up without a dad,
Growing up without him, made this boy good and mad.
The wife who had married him and thought it was forever
Took him to court, and had his parental rights severed.
 
He lives alone, on days he is not the President.
On those days he lives in the White House.
He cannot go out on election years, because he is afraid of his fans and the FBI conspirators.
Everyone is out to get him on election years, and sometimes on Tuesdays on other years.
 
The story sad, the man sad, the wife sad, the children sad.
Paranoia Schizophrenia, a serious business.


I Lay There In the Dirty Bath Water

I lay there in the dirty bath water;
unable to raise myself up, like a
dog in quicksand, I wondered if I 
should just yelp, or die, as the
grey water ran into my dream 
and eye

I must have pulled something,
a muscle, a nerve, or a bank heist,
it wasn’t clear

this must be the same as having 
a stroke, I thought;  not being able 
to use one side, a baby, a dog, waiting
for help.

And when I eventually rolled myself out, 
and the arm came back to life, I vowed 
never to bathe again, unless it was with
my wife.

Premium Member Summer Love

Summer love, a man, a woman, conception, a new born 
Ring the bells, amplify megaphones, bugle the cow horn
 
The ceremony begins, baptism, cries, holy water 
From two one, family, father, mother, son or daughter
 
A priests blessings, proud grandparents, proud parents, birth anew 
Hospital papers, a birth certificate, much to do
 
Tears from parents, tears from baby, tears from all, tears of joy 
Breast fed, nipples, milking mothers, changing diapers, oh boy
 
A songbird sings, rock-a-bye-baby, lullaby's at large 
Aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, sitters take charge
 
A pacifier, a cradle, corners of stuffed toys 
Hanging crib toys, singing toys, jingling bells, rattling noise
 
A new generation, of life, all this, in summer love 
A woman, man, baby, a family, from god above
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member A Baby, a Child

A baby, a child, brings joy to the world   
     wide-eyed innocence, a propensity for words 

   Children take it all in, every nuance, nothing blurred
     Who dares say they should be seen, never heard
Form: Couplet

Premium Member That Place

Have you ever longed to go
to the place, “oh, I don’t know”
where never is already over
and the things missing, you discover
were done yesterday.
Where contempt is color blind
and shades and gray, oh my,
are better left behind intangible myriads 
of wasted day-----the why of which
eludes me!!!.  While the illusions
of truth, weigh heavy in cognizant
apparitions alluding to the 
piercing light of righteousness
from the source, always just out of sight.
Yet in plain view of the few who 
need him to be there and ready
to pick them up from the pits, of
“oh, I don’t know”- but  I know they
are there waiting.  Get a life? 
No, we had a life and blew it.
Give the baby a chance.  He won’t
fight it.  Give the squirrel and the tree
a chance, they will delight in it.  
Give the day and the light a chance.
The grey evening won’t miss 
being as dead as we are.
Give life a chance.
and love, and peace. 
yes, and love. 

Jan 8 2013
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My childhood Lullaby

Uncle Moon so far away, 
jaggery donut cooked for the day,
You come and eat in the courtyard, 
for Baby, a cup is prepared.

Uncle moon afar, twinkling star, 
Please come on the river banks, near or far,
Please bring rice and milk porridge in a golden pot,
So that baby takes a sip, with a quiet strut, 
Sweetness in his mouth, like a secret hut.

Hush, little baby, don't you cry,
Momma's gonna sing you a lullaby.
With stars above and dreams so sweet,
Drift away on a cloud, my sweet.
© Jay Narain  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

April 15 Ninety Six and Rising

I lay in bed watching as over ninety-souls passed away
There was nothing I could do except cry upon that day
I lay in my bed my sheets crisp and white
As the doctor walked in and said ‘We take the foetus away tonight.’

I asked in a voice breaking, more of a whimper now it seems
‘You’re telling me my baby’s dead, the end of all our dreams?’
The death count was rising higher on the television screen
But to me one more was added, my child as yet unseen 

The curtains pulled around the bed just opposite to mine
Perhaps it was supposed to be private, but I heard them fine
‘Come now it’s time to say if you want us to abort
Your weeks are running out now, and time is getting short.’

I looked at the screen no-other eyes seemed to see
I saw two more lives added, no-one had heard my plea
The count already ninety-seven and yet here was another one
An unwanted baby, a mother unwilling to pay for her fun.

Ninety-eight souls were lost on an that April day
Only ninety-six are mourned, for ninety- six they pray
But as I lay in my hospital bed, two more souls did die
I wonder if she remembers on this April day I still cry.

I stand and watch the, telly my two sons’ towering over me
They kiss and say ‘See you later mum we’ll be back for tea’
I watch them tall and strong and give thanks to heaven above
We tried against all odds and now have our sons we so love.
© Mandy Tams 15/4/2014

A true tale and I use the word ‘unwilling’ in the correct sense, I was there and heard the conversation.
Form: Quatern

Premium Member Unspeakable Love

unspeakable love
met me at the door everyday
scratching with his paws
he never missed aday

unspeakable love
is very very shy
love made in the heart
only thorugh the eye's

unspeakable love
comes after a lot of pain
forgetting the pain of labour
and giving a baby a name

unspeakable love
takes a sacrifice
putting self in harms way
giving up a life
Form: Quatrain

Soon Baby 'A Soldiers Poem'

Soon baby...This war will be no more,
   And I'm anticipating the day I walk through that door!

Soon baby...We will finally be united,
   And I can't help but be so damn excited!

Soon baby...These arms of mine will hold you into the night,
   And quench your every physical appetite.

Soon baby...No more restless nights alone;
   No more letter writing and talking on the telephone.

Soon baby...All our plans will be fulfilled;
   And then we can begin the family we've been meaning to build.

Soon baby...A life together indefinitely,
   Yes baby forever, you and me!!
Form: Kyrielle

Tootle Lou - Adult Version

Tootle Lou met the gang at the McDonalds by the sea,
She shambled in with pants too big and stains for all to see.
We chewed and swallowed but never tasted,
Brain receptors craving stuff that Tootle Lou had wasted.

A carnal exchange that blew on a dime;
For that, it is true, she was always on time.
One after the other, our loads made our minds.
It was later in the decade that I opened the blinds.

Tootle Lou has a baby -- a spawn not of this earth:
Rings in her nose, unwashed hose, a pain she can't desert.
Come one, come all, and abuse her,
User after user.

Tootle Lou reads poetry -- her voice is smart and sad.
A pretty face lies buried in a made-up, phony fad.
No prince of old is coming to slay the Mongol hordes.
Tootle Lou is a friend in need, and no friend shall I abhor.

That day I came to need her, she was lost in powdered fluff.
Her eyes I'm sure they saw me, but her mind was in the rough.
Her perfumed arms I warmly held while lifting up her head.
My Tootle Lou was smiling.  My Tootle Lou was dead.
© Tom Arnone  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Narrative

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