Best Socialchildren Poems
It Takes A Whole Village to Raise a Child: The Farmer
It has been said that it takes a whole village
To raise a child; How does a farmer help
Families raise the children?
Farmers live near the village; and together,
Everyone helps raise the children.
How do they help?
The farmers near the village grow food to sell.
They plant, tend, and harvest vegetable crops.
Veggies: lettuce, beets, cucumber, and tomatoes
Collard greens, cabbage, onions, and potatoes
Green beans, artichoke, peanuts, the list and work
Goes on and on and on—
Farmers hire many workers to harvest their many crops.
Products are then, sold and sent to many vendors.
Although there are still some independent farmers,
Some farmers, like those in olden days, grow on rural farms.
Families, men, women, and children working together,
Using hoes, beasts of burden and hand plows to work the soil.
Children helping along side watching adult examples—
However, these days, big agriculture businesses own farms.
They use huge machinery to operate their many acres.
Food producing farms: planting and harvesting to feed masses.
Their products, like smaller independent farmers’ products,
Are sent to markets in their homelands and abroad.
In the process of providing food and cotton for people,
Agriculture businesses and farmers alike set examples.
Good or bad, the children watch wide eyed
And ears perked!
The Truckers:
It has been said that it takes a whole village
To raise a child; How does the village help
Families raise the children?
Truckers live in the village; and together, they,
Along with everyone else helps raise the children.
How do they help?
The truckers transport the goods that merchants
Need so the merchants can sell the things
That folks need to be smart, strong, healthy,
Entertained, clothed, and happy.
They work around the world…endlessly.
Delivering products. Through towns and cities
Driving here, driving there; delivering goods.
Back in the times of the horse and carriages,
The “truckers” used horses or pushed handcarts.
If someone had an extra hog to trade or
Crops to sell, they usually bought directly.
The farmers or someone else in the village
Helped deliver the things that needed to be delivered.
Together, people worked, struggled, and helped
One another. Children were responsible.
Their help was needed for survival…appreciated.
Everyone in the village helped to raise the children.
Even the children helped with the younger.
People interacted, closely. Thus, they helped raise the children.
Today, men and women still help raise the village children.
The children watch truckers on the road.
Driving, passing, changing lanes, shopping in shops
They set examples, good or bad.
And children watch wide eyed with ears perked!
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
March 19, 2010
Poetic form: Free Verse
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
March 19, 2010
Poetic form: Free Verse
The Merchants:
It has been said that it takes a whole village
To raise a child; How does a merchant help
Families raise the children?
Merchants live in the village; and together,
Everyone helps raise the children.
How do they help?
The merchants in the village fill the stores.
Parents go there to buy food, clothes and more.
Young people have needs for many things:
Groceries, clothes, shoes, garden hoses, and string.
It’s not like the hunter-gatherer days.
When, the men hunted together to bring the food.
They knew how to help the children.
They taught them how to survive and stay alive.
The children watched and listened.
Today, men and women still help
Raise the village children.
The children watch as the merchants work.
They help by selling goods and setting examples.
Good or bad, the children watch wide eyed
And ears perked!
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
March 19, 2010
Poetic form: Free Verse
Each Day Brought a New Smile
So long ago when my children were growing,
Silver-haired, alone, watching from a chair
She smiled; lovely laughter came sweetly flowing.
Playing, they bounced balloons into the air.
She, sitting there, chuckled softly with each play.
At ninety-nine, her face sparkled a happy stare.
My lively children came brightening her stay.
Her quiet chuckle preceded; bright-eyes gleamed.
As three youngsters giggled, laughter came her way.
She remembered only moments, so it seemed.
But her response, like the very first, was thrilled.
By chance a balloon passed her way; her face beamed.
It was magical, the young and old so skilled.
Gently tapping the balloon again, again.
Descending above her head, she aimed and squealed.
Wide-eyed everyone watched, even the old men.
Childlike smacks, quivering arms, thin bent fingers.
Coordinated taps made hopes transcend.
Her delight ascending, in my heart lingers.
A burst of energy as her hands made contact.
The balloon rose up! Up! And success was hers.
We returned even though her memory lacked.
So many times, the children came back to play.
Each new day brought forgotten smiles with love packed.
She remembered nothing, but her life was gay.
When within her heart lost memories was sung.
She cherished times when love brought new smiles her way.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen 11-20-09
As a drinker i reflect on what i have lost
The price i have paid at such a terrible cost
My dignity my pride my marriage my health
My children my job my house my wealth
Its that part of the day again the part that i hate
My family wont be here wont even be late
I know they wont be here because of my lies
The deceit and the false truths the how’s and the whys
The years of me saying im stopping the drink
The damage ive done never stopping to think
Ive done all the rehabs on the hospital wards
The telling my children the we cant affords
Now in more ways than one im alone in the dark
Im left loveless homeless my bed is the park
And i know where will end my tale of woe
Lying face up on a cold slab With a label simply saying
John Doe
Hunger is Rampant, children in jeopardy
Zeus is dismayed, I must take aim quickly
So many creatures, resources abound
Sacrifices to be made, food must be found
With hollowed eyes, gaunt infants implore
An attack on famine, I declare war
Let not one more night pass without food
To select a source, I must act shrewd
I scour the plains, survey the cattle
Gently they graze, no provocation to battle
Perhaps it is best to turn my swift arrows
To greed in halls of wealth so hollow
Who’ll be the first to offer a donation
Dare I attack corrupt corporations
Take my first shot at wealthy who waste
Use their money to give children a taste
Of life as it should be, natural order
The food chain’s bottom, the greedy hoarder
Those who defy Diana the hunter
Should be the first to die from hunger