Best Childhoodchild Poems
Oh, could I be a child again.
Mommy and Daddy standing by
My hurts to kiss, my tears to dry,
When life was easy, little pain.
I sang and played in sun and rain.
The days of childhood too soon fly.
Oh, could I be a child again,
Mommy and Daddy standing by.
I yearn for childhood now in vain.
It's gone as though a fleeting sigh,
I can't return hard as I try,
Though such fond memories remain.
Oh, could I be a child again.
For Jared's Rondel contest
I took a stroll around my mind today
And there I found images, visions at play:
I saw a child, happy carefree
I somehow knew that child wasn’t me
More of a hope, a dream that never came true
That dream, that illusion was shattered by you
I saw a teen innocent naive
For that misled youth I often grieve
I see a bride and her husband to be
But for me that door’s locked and you hold the key
I see the life I should have know
The type of environment in which I should have grown
You’ve taken so very much from my life,
From my sister, your daughter, my mother, your wife
You’ve haunted my days and tortured my nights
To the memories you leave me I can put up no fight.
I will never forgive you for the pain that you’ve caused
The whole of my life has been slowed down or paused
I only hope that one day I’ll see
How to trust again and learn to be me
________________________________________________
April is child abuse awareness month.
According to Ofsted, 3 children die every week from child abuse in the UK and Wales
A short while back when Shayla was three, Written just for Barbara's Contest.
I took my granchild's child to the Zoo with me.
She sat in he stroller as we pushed her around,
And she knew almost every creature we found,
Lion goes "RRRR" and Tiger goes "Roar,"
Hippos go "plplplpl" which I'd not heard before.
She knew elephants, horses, gorillas and monkeys,
She knew snakes and Gnus and eurasian donkeys.
Since the day was warm and the child needed a nap,
We sat in the shade on a blanket with her head on my lap.
We ate our lunch as I watched our dreamer,
Who woke and ate hers then pointed up at a lemur.
"Julian" cried the child, "Thats right" cried her mother,
And I looked from one grandkid to another.
When we got home, the child ran to prove it.
In Madagascar, thats a Julian who likes to move-it moveit.
Listen to the voice of a child
You will hear the wisdom of the ages
A book ready to be written
Filled with many unwritten pages
Learn from their innocence
Honestly brutal but real
For they haven’t yet been tarnished
telling you exactly how they feel
So simple yet so wise they speak
feelings never compromised
For whatever words they speak to you
You should not be surprised
Listen to the voice of a child
You can always feel their pain
They will always bring you sunshine
When the world is filled with rain
Their laughter is the music
That comes straight from the heart
So learn to sing their praises
Rejoice in every part
Never let that child within
Escape or get away
For every child is a part of us
Each and every day
Listen to the voice of a child
Hear each and every word
For every question asked of you
From sublime to the absurd
There are many lessons to be taught
And dreams to be realized
We learn from each other every day
Yet we always act surprised
If we listen a little bit closer
You will hear that inner child
A lifetime of knowledge
Mostly tame but occasionally wild
In a world that’s constantly changing
You can always find a choice
In the wisdom of our childhood
You will truly find your voice
Sleep my child you’re here in my heart, we’ll remember this day as our new start.
We’ll use those preyers to find our dreams, across the mountains, avoiding those thieves.
When we sleep we’ll find our peace, for the spirits will lead us to our release.
Heavens gift is not in gold, it’s within the love we share and hold.
Luck is not gift wrapped or a tasty treat, it’s in each step we dare to meet.
Life is learning how to be strong, having the courage to carry on.
Miracles are not always huge or tall, it’s seeing the good in something small.
My child, life is not a chocolate treat, nice and tasty always sweet.
So we prey and keep our faith, together we can clear the tears from our face.
Sleep my child your safe in my hand, I promise to do the best that I can.
A hardened life you’ve had to bear, often feeling like mummy’s not there.
I promise this I’ll never leave, I’ll stand and fight, we’ll always breath.
Sleep my child rest your head, remember my love is born and bread.
We just took time to find our place, to find that smile we lost on our face.
I love you my children you are my gold, you are the treasure that I love to hold.
Above the moon around the stars! right around Pluto and right through Mars.
Right around the universe with a single spark! reaching right back to your place in my heart.
I love you more with each passing day; it will never fade or drift away.
Together forever, Eternally loved!
Wide-eyed Child
The child is he who watches
Keeping pebbles self-refined
Catching ants in a candy jar
Roll in roller coaster rides
Then set them free to seek
refrain
He is the wide-eyed child
The child is she who stands on
ledges
Tracing rivulets down side
windows
Wading through fresh
riverlands unknown
To wield liquid diamond dust
Beheld in her unblemished
palm
She is the wide-eyed child
The child is he who listens
Crouched at the top of sun-
dried stairs
Head cocked to hear mellowed
speech;
Whispers of a future that will
never be
He is the wide-eyed child
The child is she who looks up
Traces clouds with stubby
fingers
Grabs autumn leaves with a
tiny hand
Tumbling through deep pools of
maple
Then getting up to run again
She is the wide-eyed child
Form:
God gave a little child
He gave this child to me;
The babe was made with love,
His soul was made by Thee.
His face a sunny blossom,
His body fair and bright,
The halo of his hair,
Was raven as the night.
This child is a part of me,
This gift of flesh divine,
And all the world was bright and new,
With this precious gift of mine.
Dear Father let me give you praise,
To share him with you all his days.
A face presses up to a store window display
of an angel in ermine
with arms bangled and boots thigh high.
Mannikin thighs harder than the fake tree
in the corner festooned with popcorn ...
stale now in the airless window.
The eyes of the child glow looking in
as mannikin eyes look out at the
turtle-necked tourists stopping to smile
at the child watching a toy train wind
past the feet of the angel in ermine
and her glistening red boots.
The train is filled with jeweled brooches,
earrings, and a necklace of diamonds.
Growing tired now, the child walks
to a cardboard box at the corner of this store
where her mother sits on an old pillow
holding a flute to be played as its
red carrying case fills with coins.
Coins that will never buy diamonds.
Hauntingly beautiful Christmas carols her mother plays
while the child sits on the sidewalk
watching feet pass and coins drop.
Soon, they will walk across the street to a cafe
where she will drink hot chocolate
before they return to this box
to sleep in the silent night.
Before there was pain meds
Before the ER had been abused
There were healers who freely gave their
Time and gifts to those in need
If a child had a bad burn
Call Mrs. Azzie and she could
Talk the fire out of the burn
She mumbled and talked real soft
Until the child went to sleep
Then slept like a log, all night
Unbelievers, here and see
**Just FYI--Mrs. Azzie also had a cure
Potion in her bag for all your
ailments, it's called working the roots
Potions made of various roots
Yellow root, sassafrass and other
root teas, many I don't even want to know
What they are, the smells are vicious enough!!
I think she came from a witch doctor heritage.
She was there for me when I came of age,
but when, for a girl of unlocked doors and
a missing father. in flight down the stairs,
an intruder pursuing, no dagger in the chamber
of non-connubial rights. "Bad dream," she said,
when summoned home from a tavern tryst
to calm her child in torn pajamas, unsafe ever after
in any man's arms. Yet, she was there for me
with the sanitary belt, its necessary napkin,
my gentle guide into the world of women,
when the blood-flower broke its bright red stain
on virginal sheets, auguring deflowering.
Her pretty clothes?--borrowed, as if
a mock stepmother in the mirror on the wall
restored my fall from the favor of our king.
Lucia, (not "di Lammermoor"), she did not stab
the bridegroom, or go mad. Blonde to my darkling
Carmen, queen to an unseated princess,
whose sleep went forty years, the prince blind-
sided, the slipper shattered, the horses
harnessed, the child become a woman,
asleep, asleep, in her glass coffin.
A day I remember a day that was sweet
I found myself daydreaming by a slow
flowing creek.
Her curly blond hair and her big brown
eyes, instills the memories I''ll forever
hold inside.
My joy, my life, my child so new just take
mommies hand and I''ll see you through.
So as you grow older, and become a young
woman the inevitable will come when
you say " I''m Goin"
And when that time has come my dear I''m
confident my child you'll persevere as
you take your steps in the great circle
of life.
.
Long ago, I was the child I was then.
On silvery nights
I roamed across
the dark green lea
Above, the moon
hovered, and awe
was all of me.
I moved, it moved.
I stopped, it stopped.
I didn't know why.
A guardian angel,
perhaps, that
egg yolk in the sky.
On winged feet,
I raced with glee,
across the meadow
to outrun and
leave far behind
my own shadow.
Tonight, I am the child I was, again.
.
they say love child an`t nothing but a word
but if you didn't know its really a child that
parents didn't want them
they have a lot of loved child in the world
i guess we need to try to help them and tell them
y this tragic thing are this good thing happend to them
well me myself i call myself a loved child
i don`t really know why
i guess its the way i feel about my dad
when you hear of someone
that suppose to be there
they leave you when you were
young when you were not able to understand y
no phone calls
dolt even let you meet them
they just go and be with there other kids
and leave that special kid that they didn't want all
alone with there mom
to be a single mom
to raise to care for me
Form:
My child what will you be. The next picasso the way you like to draw so. Will you be
a scientist; of the way you want to know how things exist. Be an airplane pilot the
way you watch the airplanes fly so high.Be a vet the way you take care of your pet.
Be an archictect the way you like to connect.Whatever my child you will be I see it all
when you play. My child be all that you can be.
Form:
Let the child in you talk!
If you don’t have a pen,
Offer him/her a chalk.
Sit down and let it all rain.
The treasures you will find,
Are costless… and unique.
All hidden in the mind,
Waiting for your time to unclick.
Simple words will define,
Life and more in color.
Listen, hear, feel the sign,
A child is his/her own tailor.
Free spirit, no enclave,
The child in you is alive.
Surfing your moods on a wave,
Gathering shells as he/she dives.
I tell you as I remind myself,
Not to forget this little child.
Once we put him/her on the shelf,
Everything becomes wild!