Best Lullabies Poems
Lithesome fingers trailed along
the ukulele’s frets
as Lilah played her dulcet lullabies.
Swaddled in a blanket, smiling,
lay her little lad,
looking up at her with large blue eyes.
Lilah lilted, “Sleep, my son,
for tranquil dreams await.
Lull-lull-lullabies for you I sing.”
As she crooned mellifluously
lulling him to bliss,
she watched small eyelids flutter-fluttering.
Lightly, lightly, letting fingers
roll along the strings,
Lilah moved her delicate small hand.
Eyes that lingered lovingly
on the wee one saw
him amble soundly into Slumber Land.
May 29, 2017 for Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer's Contemporary Poetry Contest
*I enjoy almost all types of poetry, but I suppose this represents more the Classical approach which I most often use (more lyrical and with some rhymes) though my focus is on alliteration here. I love the way L words sound!
In sonnets on a moonlit night
across the heavens oh so far
Melodically in soothing sounds
while wishing on a falling star
Neath wispy clouds of charcoal mist,
horizons painted sunset glow
Wafting softly on a breeze
gently in a tranquil flow
Serenades on velvet skies,
harmonically this weary eve
Affection played of every wish,
lullabies in twilight key
So find these lyrics I now pen
flowing from my heart so deep
To comfort you in whispered words
this evening as you fall asleep
Escape.
Blue sky with milky stars, spiral your way here
and I shall trace your yellow circles all night long,
because breathing is not easy and passion often sleeps.
We sat under the cover of nightfall, drinking wine
and taking in the majesty of night.
Paris 1947, no more war.
The bullets took my father away from me,
now the evening air consoles me, playing with my hair.
“A croissant my dear?” I laughed at the cliché of it all.
Some things still will never be the same.
The taste of the death is the same for everyone;
first it gets hot and then it gets cold.
I draw on the window fog,
a finger slides on cold glass, squealing.
“Escape”.
I can see right through the letters.
A man walks along the shoreline, waves licking at his feet;
erasing his footprints, deleting his presence, making him complete.
I once could hear freedom in the echo of seashells: “Hushhhh…”
Somewhere among the snowy dunes, a solitary tree stood bare
with its limbs spilling into the sky like black ink on a grey page, a refuge
for owls and the thundering foot of a spring hare. This is my home.
I am nestled amongst dry leaves and damp wood, a family of squirrels
has taken me in.
Nature is gracious, wolves don’t belong in public.
These days, I live in lullabies.
One reality is better than none at all.
the consecrate rose
sits on the bureau
its petals ebonized
now delicate
like life
the tempo of night
strums through whispers
of gentle wind
beneath the tones
of a lullaby
as shadows rock
back and forth
on roseate walls
while obtuse thoughts
peek in and out of mind
like the indigent moon
shrouded by clouds
she suckles on thoughts
as she kisses the infant
the press of hard glass
kissing back through the edges
of her delirium
she tries to mediate
in her sleepless mind
between lifeless beats
faded in egregious moments
that fate pillaged from hope
and the pleas of unanswered prayers
as they fell like rituals
night after night
awakening to cockcrow
her tears bleed
against crimson flesh
as she rocks
hands empty
alone
August 16, 2019
When days reflect like the veil of nightfall,
once bright eyes, like somber stars fail to glow.
World looks so big, but your soul feels so small,
as deep sighs mimic heartbeats breathing slow.
Before the storm absorbs my spirit's hope,
I search beyond weeping shadows of clouds,
counting my blessings to help weak mind cope.
Faith always finds me when I'm lost in crowds.
In times when I'm fragile like butterflies,
words from scholars and scriptures set me free.
Soothing chords from angelic lullabies,
help fight the voices that cause misery.
The Faeries Are Still Outside
Trying to cheer a garden up from the clay,
But the crabgrass won’t part
And the trees are snickering
At the art-
Less way the faeries
Sway while chanting,
Casting their spells—
Such an untalented group!
Out of tune, with
Too often the lyric,
“wha’ ta’ we all do?”
Stuck in a measureless breath
And beyond any rhyming lure to
The sprouts for any wanting to grow!
Wise, the trees lean, whining,
Slow whispers that, “
The faeries should go!
Back to their wizards
For more lessons in garden growth. “
The aged trees are exasperated; after all,
There’s little more to it
Than spreading the
Spell of encouragement, because
The sun and earth are already there prepared
For the growing…
So the trees advise,
“Raise ye’ stems around us trees.
We’ll keep the winds
From blowin’ ye’ over!
And keep the sun from
Parching your leaves.
We’ll sing lullabies to the herbs,
“Hush a-bye lurra lu,
Rest now your intake of green.
Be doodle-ye-do get ye’ ready
For droplets of dew
Diddle-eye-done
Dew comes after your dreams
Along with the rise up of the sun.”
Then the trees applauded
Among themselves, promising
That as soon as
The garden grew a bit,
The trees would tell all those little plants
Just how Spirit
Lives inside their stems, their flowers and leaves,
Where the spells of the faeries cannot reside…but,
“Deed le-dee see la so sigh.” Fine,
Let the spells be sung.
“‘Tis a task the faeries prize,” and who knows if it won’t
Help the clay to crack,
“Fiddle diddle perhaps a fact!”
——————————————-
(C) sally young Eslinger 9/30/21
Thanks be to God
lilac lullabies
black and yellow butterflies
cotton candy blue skies
field and house work once idealized
perfect dreams
imperfectly fantasized
tangled with filthy truths and honorable lies
every night they listen and console
uplifting the spirits of one another
chanting we will not let them see our cries
noise silences the chastised
perseverance overcomes the spark in their eyes
this too shall pass, in the end a better tomorrow lies
fully aware the sun will continue to rise
hope kept them focused and willing to strive
mentally trapped yet conscious of the
planned infiltrated compromise
oppressors remain confused of their laughter
it was incomprehensible and quite taken by surprise
under the impression everything had been stripped from them
the ancestors were found uplifted every morning
still walking about lilacs singing lullabies
smiling at the sight of black and yellow butterflies
dancing under cotton candy blue skies
yellow rice crickets
sing sweet lullabies
to
make
the
restless stars
fall asleep
to dream
the
impossible dreams
Ella’s Lullabies
twilight wanes with a child’s fascination
lullabies that deeply moves papa’s admiration
dreams of generation inheritance inspiration
powerful bond drawn with love tears creation
values taught us with their loving hands determination
3/27/2016
When the blazing sun is gone
Show your little light
in the dark blue sky
let it shines upon through the night
Serenade of stars up from above
Sing your lullabies
This princess wants to sleep
Cuddle her with soft music
hush to the wind.
Sleep princess close your eyes
The night so long rest your mind
For tomorrow would be
a brand new day.
Sleep princess, sleep
where the moonlight kiss you
and the twinkle stars whisper
sweet lullabies
Sleep princess, sleep.
*** A DAISY TALE ***
A single, wild, tiny daisy
Less than a thumbnail in size, swaying side to side
In the slight, burning whiffs of a summer’s breeze,
Growing out from next to the house,
From the corner where the front and side
gray, stone walls of the house meet.
She climbs her way on out fron beneath a thick, brambly
Weed-Bush that is quite hell-bent on strangling
Any beauty growing in its proximity, and between
Whose many snappy twigs, the wild daisy had grown, sprouting
Her skinny stem up from the gravelly dirt, to rise, threading
Through the Weed Bush’s many twig limbs, until she cleared
Out above it, to be now taller than the house’s front stoop, onto
Which it takes three steps to stand. And, bobbing close to
Which she now gloried — near no others of her kind — alone —
With only five leaves sticking out from her stem
And showing off her golden center, smaller
Than the nail of a newborn baby’s pinky finger; leaves and flower angled
To face the sun: their light…her direction, in that moment,
Noon-centered overhead in the cerelean blue, July sky. Tiny, stalwart
Wild daisy, without fragrance (except perhaps to bees);
With her several minute white petals, sized
Like the absolute tips of toothpicks. The eptome of dainty.
Delicate, delightful. Perfect for a child’s braided
Daisy chain, if only there were more there of her;
Or a lovely pick for a dining table bouquet centerpiece
If only she were very, very much larger…Still,
She’d reached her fated height, standing proudly straight,
Just beyond the shadows laying across the yard,
Showing the peaks of some nearby giant pines,
Who always joined with her to hum Mother Nature’s dusk lullabies
While the listening heavens smiled.
—————————————————————————————————————————————————————-
This is a Narrative poem form, (with the daisy possibly
being a metaphor for someone you know?)
(c) sally young eslinger 6/19/2023
Thanks be to God
“Lullaby scents always linger unfurling moments-visions of childhood in tomorrow”
in the glitter of the night when the moon
has cast its net over one and all ~
swaying to symphonies rehearsed
stars will dance their million virtues
and the midnight breezes will serpentine
towards distant lullabies of mermaids
seek they will hoping to find the enchantress
who forever conspires in the dark with unworldly deities
AP: 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
Here I lie, enshrouded
by the orangery aura cast by
the fading rays of a setting sun
I have long waited for sunrise
I sit at the brink of yesterday
wrapped in the arms
of this lingering night, I await
it's ambience to descend
on me like warm sunrays
Here I wait, my heart
benumbed, my soul
in hibernation I await
rebirth, singing lullabies
to the moon, attempting
to lull it to sleep
for the sun to awaken
and pull its crown through
a crowd of lambent clouds.
As darkness reaches its depth
A song's produced by your voice
In my mind the lyrics forever kept
Not because I have no choice
Between your hands hugging me tight
I fell asleep through a lullaby
In my dreams you said goodnight
'til tomorrow comes, it was goodbye
In every time I go to bed
I hear it all over again
The only music in my head
Were the words which give me pain
It was beautiful to hear
A song before I sleep
For I somehow know you're near
In my heart, forever I will keep.
Any Sad Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings
November 2015