Best Infant Poems
Ambling in the charm of Tidal Basin
We hold hands with a lilac morning
Long before it pleads with the sunrise
To sparkle the view of a purple dawn
Saddled in the daze of hazy fog.
Strolling under gleam of a starry night
Along the trails of romantic banks
We handed the new-day to misty sight
Coating the blooms in lavender hues
Seducing the motifs love subscribes.
Dawning deterred by thick overcast
Defiantly rises on the golden skyline
Unwrapping monument's foggy attire
Shimmering beneath the lowly tides.
In awe of its luster we lose ourselves
Hanging on the vertex of rising flame
As a passionate kiss of avid romance
Attunes two hearts to infant-daybreak
And the horizon blushes end to end.
September 17, 2018
Poem of the day on September 19, 2018
Placed first in Late September Standard Contest by Brian Strand
NOTE:
Sunrise at the Tidal Basin in Washington D.C. The photo shows cherry blossoms with a purple tinge and the partially covered monument in early morning fog.
an infant poet
making close observations,
the rhymes in her head
on all that she sees and feels:
no one can hear or read it
Jack Horne
Newborn
pinkisk, innocent
sucking,enticing, cuddling
daughter,purity,charmer, energy
giggling, inhaling, transforming
impressionable, dreamy
Baby
Diamante Poem for Regina Riddle
12 Nov 14
My life’s boat
My faith’s mast
My destiny’s rudder:
JESUS!
©Demetrios Trifiatis
02 DECEMBER 2014
Me the infant, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s L’Enfant moi by T. Wignesan
The infant a stranger to me who grew up poet
You whom he missed even in his sleep
He who had to disinter himself upon waking
Every day in his quest with increasing effort
He who had not known your breast nor lap
Manically he sought your odour in bed clothes
Sniffed under the covers your sphinge haïr
And searched every bush for your mystic antrum
In vain forgot blackness of breasts in death
More avidly survives the memory of your milk
Longer I live more the haunting infant pleases me
When the eternel Night projects her by the threshold
At death the infant’s visited by the maternal shadow
Dissociated as two blue perfect globular moons
Note : Original rhyme schème of sonnet :
abba cddc effe gh)
( from Sophia, O.C. t. II, p. 348)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 15, 2014
We play in the streets shaded of grey
We sing and dance but in the saddest of ways
Duplessis turned us into little clowns
In boarding houses of very strange towns
Our mothers cried, we heard them we did
Crying from the skies
We became the faceless infants
We became many shades of grey illusions
We looked up towards tall figures
Priests and Doctors of the state of hell
Who declared we had no idea
Of our own state or our own fate
So we played in the alley of the dead
Infants as clowns in institutes to drown
Our pains well hidden behind our masks
Little clowns running away in the fields
A comedy of pain upon our naked souls
You big ones played
You had your roles
Now we dance in the alley of dead infants
You killed us at birth
You sold tickets to the show
Of dead clowns who dance
To the federal benefactors afar
Our demise was your pleasure
The dead end road to our destiny
Little clowns who dance to your whims
Children with stolen mothers
Our pain is your circus
Little figurines dancing on our heads
Experiments you say
We must decry, we are not happy clowns
Kill Kill Kill us all
Makes us fall into happy listless sleep
We must suffer death yet a second time
So be it! We live in eternal pain
In the alley of the dead infant clowns
Notes: I was listening to this video, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7x1n-0MmLNg
It was the video itself and not the words that reminded me of an event here, I will post the info,
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duplessis_Orphans
This is a very dark moment in history, and a sad moment, and that video inspired me to re-tell the story!
Your mother, laboring to give you life--
I, happy witness to love’s mystery,
so close I would be first to see your face.
Your head crowned, turned, unforgettable face!
Tiny body, precious vessel of life,
innocence fresh from God, a mystery.
Powerful love, confounding mystery--
I hold you, bonding with sweet form and face,
aching to keep you safe, protecting life.
Life, deep mystery, enthroned on your face.
Copyright, July 13, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Infant Poet
I heard the sweetest cry: “Jack Ellison!”
Soon after birth of Joe my Cherubim Son
That bestowed bliss and not sorrow-
A symbol for a judicious tomorrow
Evocative of erstwhile Lord Tennyson!
** With the Wise Poet, Jack Ellison, in mind. (A Limerick)
JM
19th Oct’ 2013
baby
precious infant
loving couple's blessing
wild, intense, unmatched ecstasy
newborn
Perched in unfamiliar terrain
Drenched in an unforgiving milieu
An infant vulture, lingered in pain
On the edge of a hill resisting the wind`s allure
With no prior instinct, it treads
Flapping its sporadic feathers
The strides it takes eradicate presumed threats
Its minute wings accelerate, while panic withers
Moving ever so further from the edge
A sense of pride provided a much needed surge
With eyes firmly fixed on the safe pasture ahead
Victory! Was meet, imparting its winning urge
The jubilation bred self-reliance and stupendous thrill
The former weary eyes prowled
Saw prey and killed
The innovative, un-vulture like infant was proud.
The effort…..the triumph…..the kill
The essence……the lesson…..instilled.
Little one with fingers all curled
Ready to take on this great big world
Like a diamond in a mine, an oyster with a pearl
Excited to be introduced to my little boy or girl
Been waiting nine months for you, my surprise
Imagining the color your hair, skin, and eyes
The beauty in your picture would take first prize
A smile creeps on my face as anticipations rise
Oh tiny one I can't wait to meet
With delicate hands and fragile feet
But as I prepare for my infant to greet
The doctor cries out "There is no heartbeat"
Now the room is racing faster than a relay
As I feel the pulse in my veins slowly delay
The hope once there, rottens with decay
Watching them with agony take my baby away
I thought nothing was as safe as a mother's womb
Didn't know it'd remodel into your burial tomb
How I wanted this life to blossom and bloom
Seeing now my happiness was overly assumed
Couldn't wait to be like every superhero mom
The one you'd always be able to depend on
But I failed you even before your life had begun
Now the blame and the guilt are eating me numb
Oh God I don't understand why I'm left here so weak
But even in my depression, it is You I seek
Your knowledge is higher, Your plans more mystique
Just don't mind this river cascading toward my cheek
triplet infants in their bed
asleep together
cuddled like birds in a nest
limbs wrapped around each other
beneath a quilted blanket
they warmth their wee bods
silently breathing
awakening together
time to change all their diapers
My
three
year old
grandson can
use an iPhone, open
and close apps and check
out my photos. When I was his
age I was still eating all my crayons.
Little angel,
you have got your wings to fly,
fly far away beyond the sky,
where your spirit may soar high,
into the light beyond human bondage.