Best Patter Of Little Feet Poems
Pancakes for breakfast,
What a yummy treat!
Here come the children,
The pitter patter of little feet.
They gather at the table,
Their tummies are a rumblin',
Chattering and laughing,
Not a one is grumblin'.
Pass the butter, if you please,
Here comes the syrup now.
Mapley goodness trickles down,
From hungry little mouths.
"Thank you, Mommy"' they exclaim,
As they finish their last bites.
Then rush to give maple syrup kisses
To their mother, smiling bright.
8/10/12
Peering through crystals along the palm lined
Avenue of Angels, stretching endlessly
In a parallel universe serenaded by unheard
Choruses of lost newborns ripped from their
Mother's wombs through no fault of theirs,
Nor judgement of their mothers.
Resentment, anger or any form of avarice
Does not exist on this beautiful avenue.
Tho rain does fall on this particular evening,
Darkened skies glower; not yet willing to relinquish
The pitter-patter of little feet nor the innocent
Laughter of unborn children.
Our living exhibit (the slow dimension we inhabit)
Demonstrates immense capacity for
Estrangement from any compassion for these
Lost souls, even as Angels welcome them
With gifts of everlasting love upon entrance
To their glorious avenue; unaware of their
Own mortality that will someday
Beg forgiveness at this same aperture
To the
Avenue
Of
Angels
Palm Sunday Morning
3:30 am
03/29/15
Sitting in the forest hidden from the sun
I feel the earth tremble by deer on the run
Leaves flutter in a gentle breeze
as along the narrow path
the running deer speed
then freeze in utter consternation
as they glance in my direction
Eyes wide with fear
for to them a strange being in the forest is rare.
They stare for a moment then move on again
afraid for their safety in their own domain
Birds hop from branch to branch
the owl sits alone in a trance
yet frowns upon all who dare to move
disturbing the stillness.... changing the mood.
Breeze whistle through the trees
cooling the brow.... chilling the knees
Sunset pierce the darkening forest
with a red but mellow light
as it prepares once more to turn in for the night
Such a brief but glorious sight.
Darkness is now complete
yet I hear the patter of little feet
I hear too the heart of the forest beat
and I know the forest is alive
I know too.....the forest never sleeps.
I can't imagine what goes through a girls mind,
As she lives grows and encounters the blues,
Looking for prince charming in the nick of time,
To carry her off on a journey that begins with two.
Most guys I know tremble at the thoughts of getting married,
They run hide say not for sale and crack other jokes for fun,
Guys think ball chain hang us now or let me be buried,
However with smitten heart they come with eyes fixed on one.
The day comes which the two have planned at last,
It seemed like forever this moment to arrive,
Hand in hand giving rings and vows shall they cast,
The Lord over them teaching them how to thrive.
Next stop vacation fun and the honey moon suite,
Then lessons of how to live together and pet peeves will spawn,
Moving on in their future we hear the pitter patter of little feet,
A home the lady will keep tidy while the man cuts the lawn.
Years will pass by and changes shall take place,
Children now grown and ready to leave the nest,
But the two remain in tact thankful for each other and new space,
Knowing it was God who helped them excel and pass each test.
Hebrews 13:4a - "Marriage is honourable in all,..."
"Write your dreams," Carolyn Kizer told us
in a long-ago poetry workshop in Paris. I would
like to, Yes, follow that instruction, but on wee-
hour trips (no pun intended), to the 'salle de bain'
I describe as 'the patter of little feet,' I sit dazed,
drowned in the rip tide of the sandman. Swim
sideways, it is said, and do not panic.
My betta, Beau, (for beautiful) in his glass bowl
has no such problem. He dozes on an artificial leaf
fastened by suction cup at the edge of the water
where he hangs, calm and motionless. I'm
pulled from my dream where I am the hostess
in a strange house, pouring champagne
into crystal flutes. Among the guests,
several lovers from the past, accompanied
by their current amours. Only one
embraced me with the old sexual longing,
(but didn't leave his telephone number).
In the dream I walked to the back of the house
into a spacious yard which became the ocean,
waves breaking at the brink of an open door.
"If this were MY dream," said Terri, our leader in
a dreamwork class, "I would... " maybe, say,
that the ordinary can bespeak peril?
I press my hands against my eyes to shut
out the light, and then I rise, reluctantly,
from roaming the corridors of night to go feed
the fish who bolts from sleep, swims to me
when I press my face against his bowl,
and say, Good Morning, Gorgeous. You,
of the dreams of open streams--
the dream that spins fins.
It was a Thursday the first time we "met"
Just like today except two score and three
Nearly two years from the time our eyes first beget
Who could have imagined what our lives might be
The pitter-patter of little feet
The hurrahs of victory, the agony of defeat
Tears of pain and tears of joy
The honor and pride of raising three boys...
Now men.
The triumph of staying married ...with poise
Amen.
Being witness to the birth of our baby girl
And being there for her in her young adult world
Defining and redefining love and being in love
And realizing our years have been blessed from above
For it is not only an equation of you and me
There's our wonderful children for all to see
Lives that could never be the same , if not at all
Because the cosmic forces of Nature and God
Saw to it that we found each other...
And Love.
Copyright 2016 Iger Rolyat All Rights Reserved
My Special Gift
It's hard to see my life without my son
He's just three and already has a personality
My heart is full, just having him around
This child, a Special Gift of mine
~
His young character, a demanding and passionate one
The innocent questions, the changing facial expressions
A thank you or a good night kiss
Warms my heart, this Special Gift of mine
~
The sounds of laughter and the patter of little feet
Fill our home with the richness of hope
That life's special moments will always include
A lifetime of memories with this Special Gift of mine
By: Liz Ward
I heard the pitter patter of little feet I looked up to see my daughter looking so sweet!She
said daddy I heard a story today before the starting of the Christmas play!It was about a
man named Jesus that died for our sins then retuned to life again!A true story I sighed and
sit her on my knee explaining about Gods mercy and love!At the end of our conversation we
said a prayer we had talked for over a hour!
T'was the night before Christmas and all through the house
Pitter patter of little feet were heard stepping lightly as a mouse
For they knew Santa was coming and were determined to sneak a peak
Maybe place a blowfish kiss or two upon his rosey red cheeks
Imaginations were running wild as their hearts were soaring
Magical thoughts were furthest from boring
Maybe they'd catch a glimpse of Rudolphs red nose
Their minds were racing as they wandered on tippy toes
Perhaps they'd hide in Santa's sack and be a stole-away
Oh how much fun it would be to ride in Santa's sleigh
All of a sudden they were flying through the sky
They were sitting next to Santa with the reindeer close by
Young girl said to her brother, "pinch me"
"Is this really happening, can it be really be?"
Before they knew it they were at the North pole meeting the elves
Never had they seen so many toys upon shelves
They saw their names upon the naughty list and let out a sigh
They both broke down and started to cry
Santa said, "do you see all the elves working together and sharing?"
"These gifts couldn't be ready on time without love and caring."
"For the true meaning of Christmas doesn't come with a price."
"Good will and peace toward others, it pays to be nice."
"It's a beautiful thing to see the whole world smile."
"Those smiles go on and on for miles"
When they woke in the morning there were gifts beneath their tree
Also a special note from Santa, only they could see
"No, little ones it wasn't a dream."
"Let all of your actions be filled with love bursting at the seams."
Santa, can you bring me a long forgotten smile?
Santa, can you bring me the happiness of a child?
Santa, can you just hold my hand and walk with me awhile?
Down memory lane we’ll wander, while Christmas dreams do rush,
Past our empty nested homes, we’ll whisper in a hush.
Please help me to remember those years of tinsel past,
When our homes were filled with happy cheers,
We always thought would last.
When getting ‘wakened early on Christmas morn,
Brought them peeking ‘round the stairs,
And the pitter patter of little feet was something we once shared.
Santa, can you make a snowflake fall gently upon my nose?
Can you bundle me up so warm, in all my winter clothes?
Can you take me sledding down the hill at North Side park?
Santa, can you please bring back just a tiny Christmas spark?
Can we unwrap some laughter and some extra fuzzy hugs?
I’ll help you warm the cocoa in some extra jumbo mugs!
If you could help me bring back some forgotten memories
I made a promise to the Christ child I’d drop down to my knees.
I’ll say a prayer for Christmas peace and lend a helping hand,
And ride around the globe with you tonight with a message for this land.
Cherish each day as it happens,
put anger and sadness aside,
with the Christ child in the manger,
is where happiness resides.
Santa, I want to say thank-you for bringing me Christmas cheer.
Jesus, I want to say thank-you for calming all my fears.
The floodlight went out
Just about two o'clock in the morning
But little did anyone know
That the attack was about to spring.
Being asleep in their beds
No one had realized what to think
When the sound of a clang
Meant that there was an invasion
Right in the back yard.
The pitter-patter of little feet across the brick
Led up to the built-in garbage can.
They worked very quick,
Like two bandits in disguise,
To grab a bundle of goodies.
"But, I'll hold the lid up
So that you can see.
It's so messy down there,
For a girl like me."
"Okay, OKay, don't worry,
I'll get the vittles."
Hanging over the edge,
He manages to scrounge through a pile
But figured out he was stuck in a wedge
Against the inside wall.
He changes ges his strategic tactic just by chance,
Side by side with his accomplice,
They looked at each other at once glance.
They struck a gold mine of seafood delight,
And scurried away so excited
With their catch of the night.
Moving with agile cat-like abilities
Using stealthy ninja skill capabilities
For even upon their sleep
While sweet dreams they do keep
It's time to kick it into overdrive
Though you only feel half alive
Toys are strewn in every room
Time to break out the dustpan and broom
Found some papers torn and tattered
Like confetti it's been scattered
Stumbled upon another mess
It seems the bathroom was visited by lockness
Tornado alley down the hall
Appears the kids had quite a ball
Innocent minds at play
Creative imaginations and learning ways
Came across their secret lair
Where they play without a care
Flashbacks of echoing giggles
Burning energy expending their wiggles
Rocking to the radio singing and dancing to K-Love
Giving thanks to God above
Look at the time it's after one
Dishes still aren't done
Keep you on your toes and energy they do zap
Always on the go you may be the one who needs a nap
Like lava flowing juice is spilled on the floor
There's peanut butter stuck to the door
Found another blanket fort
Among scattered books of all sorts
Bring out the bucket and mop
For sticky sweet substances they did drop
Take out the trash
You may have finally revived from the crash
So many many clothes to wash
Look at these stains oh my gosh
Late night feedings go by fast
Precious moments gone that do not last
Sneak in a quick shower
Soon they'll be looking for breakfast to devour
Get a couple more hours of sleep
Soon you'll once again hear the pitter patter of little feet
Just when you think you might be done
The fun has really just begun
Bask and enjoy this time while they're still young
You'll miss this and remember when will roll off your tongue
Embrace this crazy beautiful chaotic ride
Children are the greatest blessing to steal your heart and won't always want to be by your side
It upsets me how cruel people are in this world today
pictures show baked in dirt crying alone
Having grow up tainted with killing and brutality
in the streets bombs going off
Earth shattering noise as the ground trembles
one feels a shaking underneath
Scared out of your wits
the effect it has on children
poor innocent little souls
If only they knew
being born into this selfish cruel world
it would make the hardest heart shed a tear
the scars forever remain
It leaves such damage
governments they all claim not to see
Everything is all controlled by mans greed war war war
is all one heart hears
what it all boils down to in the end
God be with them I pray
beginning their beautiful life's
tainted with scars
suffering little children
to hear the patter of little feet
truly a Godsend
Voices screamed in the street as gunshots rang out loud. You faintly
see the pitter patter of little feet as they run in fear through the
street - of vapor clouds. I my self, was panic stricken, as I
crawled through the street covered in red. Bodies are motionless as
they fall and hit the deck, while the soldiers stack the dead. I have
never known fear of anticipation of death. But un-cowardly held my
weapon to help defend the innocent and my platoon until my dying
breathe.
Suicide bombers make it difficult for veterans and new comers to
make a firm stand. While the spirit of brotherhood goes un-shaken,
I see God's Glory in the making as the soldiers give the innocent a
helping hand. What are we fighting for? It goes deeper than
freedom, liberty and justice for all. Defend America's glory,
everyone, lets join our solders and stand against the dividing wall.
Don't let the terrorist terrorize us. Take off the shackles of fear
and watch them fall.
This is a statement I share, not out of fear or political
oppression. We should learn this valuable lesson to take a stand to
show we care instead of sitting back saying " it's not my political
agenda and only respond at our discretion." If we don't care who
will.
By David Burton
Bedtime is at Eight
By Elton Camp
Rearing kids can be okay
Yet, for bedtime, hooray!
A blessed interval of quiet
Before collapsing for the night
Especially for Mom, it’s a treat
Free from the patter of little feet
All the hungry mouths are fed
They’re clean and in their bed
Kid, get in your bed or fear
That ogre mother will appear
It’s a transformation you won’t like
So obey your bedtime, little tyke
Lest she commence to scream and yell
Like a mom who’s straight from hell