Best My Children Poems
Drive mindfully, dear children, as you traverse hurdled highways of life,
Cognizant that adjacent to an oasis of joy, lies a desert brooding strife;
Assume charge of your chosen path, obey rules of road as you ride,
Pursuing life’s aspirations you vie, with compass of mind as your guide.
Beware things luring you with glitter, may be just metal, feigning gold,
Love superficial, love that is shallow, never the love for you to behold;
Don’t let a mirage~ a spurious illusion~ become an aspiration of hope,
Life, a vast ocean, as it ebbs and flows, learn to navigate, strive to cope.
As shrouds and clouds obscure life, seek enlightenment to wear a smile,
Defy encroachment of grimace, defy the vibes that cramp your style;
Embrace blissed domain of empathy, proffering missives angelic, kind,
Yield to others, who are lost, show them the egress destiny designed.
Build your abode on pillars of morals, revering honesty, and trust,
For they are the hallmarks of people, respectable, equitable, just;
Mind your paradigms and proverbs, practice always what you say,
Extend genuine gestures of regret, when actions have gone astray.
Be grateful for family and friends, honor them in prayers of heart,
Create keepsake albums of memories, life-scapes endearing impart;
For they are the priceless treasures of love, omnipresent lifelong,
Inspiring, nurturing you, reassuring all along~ love can do no wrong.
You’re all in charge of authoring a story
Of love and humor, suspense and glory
You’re writing starts with your very first thought
And doesn’t end til your life is naught.
Know, My Dears, these books; your own
There are no cowriters; authors unknown
Flip those pages and make your quills dance
Miss no opportunities, take a chance
If somewhere in those thick tomes of yours
You have questions “whys and what fors?”
Do not ponder and then overthink
For there’s no such thing as permanent ink
There will be some tearstained pages
Most likely in your middle ages
There will be words you’d like to forget
Or phrases in which you may regret
But when it reaches the golden stage
The best of the story in a later page
Grab a pencil and throw some sparks
And don’t be afraid of eraser marks
Then once it’s written and you do find
There was a time of hurt when life’s unkind
Go ahead and toss out awful chapters
Because Momma loves Happily Ever Afters
Love that is fragile as a butterfly,
that lands in your palm,
with a glittering of color,
and with trust that you will care.
Allowing them freedom
to spread wings in the air.
When they are desperate for warmth,
a heart staying open.
Closing a fist,
a soul will be broken.
Caring enough
to keep open hands.
Waiting and watching,
as love only can.
I love Christmas
a special time
watching people smile
seeing children laugh
a blessing this year
in lieu of the grief
and illness around
we need to remember
it's a time to
love one another
and show we care
there was a time
we were told
that wise men came
to see a child
this child grew up
he spoke about
what matters
my Christmas wish
is things that matter
will be our treasure
finding a home
in our hearts
Edward J Ebbs - December 19, 2021
To My Children
Your teeth are green.
Your hot breath reeks.
Your room is a mess.
Your clothing stinks.
Your voice is loud.
Your ears are deaf.
I am your maid
and personal chef.
I'm proud of you
and all your traits
Cause I'm the one
Who made you great.
Brenda Atry
Downward marriage falls seeking some relief
Children follow awkwardly, senses moan
Husband and wife acting out of belief
Three children entering chambers unknown
Locked in battle, the wife reaches for sword
Under advice, she unleashes all hells
Falsely accusing the husband deplored
Of abuse, harm, and hate to citadels
With one stroke of the pen, I was condemned
Guilty 'til proven otherwise I was
Cast out, no home, no gold, no kids, clemmed.
Without, alone, despaired, scorned, for no cause
Time to think, time to ponder, time to pray
My children became my crusade, that day
09/21/17
'Taking a disappointment in your life turning it into something positive'
Form: Sonnet
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri
He was six. Brown hair, brown eyes, with a round freckled face that longed.
His mommy had died two days earlier, in a tragic accident on her way to work.
I did not know him, we’d never met, but I knew his 16 year old sister, a friend of my daughter’s.
And she needed a break, some time with friends, time to grieve.
I offered to keep him, for the day, for a weekend, for however long she needed.
Her stepfather was too cocooned with sorrow to be of any help now.
We had a delightful play date, this darling six-year-old soldier and I.
We drank lots of pop, ate crazy amounts of sugar, cooked food, and played board games galore.
I wanted a smile. I wanted him to know that life goes on, even when your mommy doesn’t.
We both needed to play; him more than I, but my heart was aching; he was such a good boy.
His name I have forgotten.
This was twenty-one years ago, and it was only one day.
I was worried it would take him all day to smile. I was wrong. He was six, remember?
When his sister came to get him, I did not want to let him go.
We had become best-ies, this six year old soldier and I.
We were giggling like seven months old, at this point.
I hugged him really tightly, not wanting to ever let him go.
Anywhere without his mommy.
At the last second I yelled, “See you later, alligator.”
He turned; his face split into a giant grin. He ran back for another hug.
And he said, “That’s good! Can I USE that?”
“Use it all you want,” I said.
I am still smiling about this boy without a name twenty-one years later.
My boy.
out in the county and up the highway
anger hangs like lost voodoo over Miami
dances on bumperstickers
floats on airwaves
scars faces with perpetual glares
colors perceptions darkly
alters moods and
drives young men to football coaches
then army recruiters
anger that beats stepchildren
hunts coyotes for pleasure
and hangs corpses on barbed-wire fences
anger that asks
have you seen many Mexicans today?
just my wife and kids so far but it's still early
i hope to see more
he calls me a race traitor
he's to old to hit and i'm to old to hit him
so i suffer a fool
he tells his old wife only a *****would marry a Mexican
middle-aged men in Ford 350's
scatter brown children at bus stops and crosswalks
then pull guns to protect themselves
from the older brothers of the children they harass
and... hey why did you do that to my little sister?
can get you shot in "self defense"
it gets to me too as anger leads to fear
fear for my Mexican son and daughter
who have records but have committed no crime
but out in the county and up the highway
the police put up roadblocks
issue tickets without cause
and brag, every Mexican in town will have a record
they told my son "what's the big deal everybody gets pulled over
everyone has to pay their share"
even if they
come to a complete stop
obey speed limits
use their blinker
don't tailgate
tell it to the judge, my son and my daughter
the judge who gives out four month sentences
for a third non-offence
or you can pay the
take it off your record fee
we lost your paperwork fee
you live in the wrong neighborhood fee
you drive an old car fee
we don't care if you did it or not fee
then after you pay and pay
re-arrests because the clerk didn't enter the payment
leads to
lost jobs
missed classes
and retracted scholarships
my children are Mexicans
When the clock tops ticking
When the pump stops heaving,
When I go to my last sleep,
When no wind comes from the heap,
Don’t you feel sad,
Don’t you feel mad,
But rather be glad,
For nothing is bad.
From where I will be,
Though you can’t see,
I’ll be with you,
Helping you through.
So think of me always,
As bathing in sunrays,
Happy in my new ways,
Smiling to you through a haze.
I’ll be with you still,
Not in flesh but in will,
Speaking to you, it will seem,
While you sleep and dream.
So close your eyes and pray,
You’re almost there already,
I’ll be thinking of you,
Patiently awaiting you.
My children are my life
My reason to survive
They are each so distinct
And very special to me;
Kyle who is the youngest
I will forever cherish
His laughter and his smile,
Is contagious after a while;
Kassandra, my little girly
She is just too pretty
And with the brains to go with
Her beauty can’t be missed;
Michael, the oldest of mine
Came along just in time
He possesses intelligence,
That is rare at first glance
But once he starts to tell all
He will baffle your mind with awe;
Little David, who at the age of eight
Was placed upon my life’s’ plate
A mix of emotions is he
A sense of humor which is unique
A heart that is full of feeling
But there is a wall he keeps building;
Little Christina was only nine
When we met the first time
So angelic and sweet she was,
Definitely not hard to love
Today she is basically the same
Except when hormones come to play;
And Drake, although not mine
I will love for all time
To me he is the same
As the ones that I have named;
These are my children,
Each special to me
They are my life
And my responsibility
I’ve given an oath
And will do my best
To make sure they will be raised
To be better than the rest
Children, our most treasured wealth shouldn’t grow maimed
In joyful living and the art of life, they need to be groomed
At a young age when they are flexible and pliable
A mother’s gentle guidance will help them not to stumble
I feel I should extend my guiding hand to teach
How to live happy and attain the stature they should reach
I would teach my children a dozen and more values
To be fair and just in all they do and shine in life like jewels
I insist, from the right path they should never waver
Also, to speak out their mind without fear or favor
They should learn to love their body with all its flaws
Keeping fit, but knowing it is internal beauty that glows
Train them to ensure personal hygiene, keep things tidy
Follow a system, be punctual and in decisions, be steady
Inculcate in them a love for their parents, siblings, and the family
Treating all men with respect and love, facing criticism calmly
Make them diligent in their study, dutiful and punctilious
Braving life with its ups and downs, springing back with resilience
Train them to accept that life offers a mixed pack of joy and grief
And hardly there is time to waste in lamentation, as life is brief
Train them to be vigilant not to fall in traps set by predators
As, in our world, there are masked assassins and imposters
Above all, make them love God, giving the reins of life to His hands
Knowing things are never in man’s control, but everything works as He plans
Feb.14.2023
12 Things You’d Teach Your Child
Sponsor- Matt Caliri
Tell me not of True Love
I've heard it before
Poems I've written and read by the score
When I was younger I believed
in it, sought and fought for it
and found it, or so I thought.
Then came a child and a family of my own.
And now I know what is true of True Love.
My child his eyes all innocent and blue
a little devil with an angels smile.
I look into my families eyes now
and I know truths only imagined before.
My child knows nothing of life
but has taught me the truth of life and love.
I've had four lives that grew inside
that darkest inner place, gently.
But only three of those survived
to live, and feel, and breathe with me.
Only two beyond three days
Did carry on the endless fight,
and of those only one retains
the gift of precious, perfect sight.
Each gift special, birthed by me
though only two and four are here.
One and three have long since gone
to places where there is no fear.
And in my heart there drips a wound
of agony to never heal,
as I remember living pain
that dying children never feel.
Once A Tiny Child
Where once a tiny child walked
upon these wooden floors
now only wee shadows waltz
swiftly through the doors.
Finger prints are wiped away
with Kool-Aid grins and tears
where once a tiny child walked
and quickly disappeared.
Packed away in attic trunks
their teddy bears and toys
where once a tiny child walked
dear little girls and boys.
Time will never take away
the memories that remain
where once a tiny child walked
to make me smile again.
Prayer choice or not
Miscarriage, abort heartbreak
wish-to-be babies