Best Toddler Poems
-Toddler Sky-
Down where I sleep,
You hold me, embrace my every way
The Marks up on my skin
You caress, taking away from the ugliness
Watching the simple breath, when I breathe
Breaking the ice, soothing my inner peace
A sweet spray across the paleness in my limbs
Holding the warmth, I've been loved throughout my life.
From picking up sticks to the walking stick
My loving dear I know you will always be there
A few wheel chairs, when broken bones mend
You know my every cure*
Walk with me across the hall
Through the oldness, and the boldness of every color in the sky
Thank you for taking me as I am
A light twinkle' every time I feel the colors of the rainbow drip
Now a newborn takes his form
In you I find the strength to stretch my arms and reach for every star
When happy moments fail,
I embraced the colors I found in you
I make out every tree, and wonder why and how?
I close my eyes to imagine the fun of chasing fireflies
Tonight I'm keeping my prayers simple, cute, and innocent
I will count sheep and search for sweet lullaby dreams
Smiling like a 3 year old this very moment,
You think I'm having "Baby Blues."
My loving dear, thanks for having patience,
Painting my way down a toddlers sky
Every time "P M S" hits
~SKAT~
Written on 9/26/2022
Updated on 9/27/2022
by Gail DeBole
The young boy was watching his mom
Straighten sheets on his bed with her palms.
He began scratching his head
Looked at the floor and his bed
And seemed to be mildly alarmed.
The young boy who was not quite four,
Said, “The wrinkles are not on the floor.
It did not take long
For them to be gone,
But why did they not fall to the floor?"
I thought I’d invite toddlers for tea,
so my own would stay out of my hair.
They would sit and sip so daintily,
Follow rules, and play games so fair.
Smile ever sweet, use the word please
Say thank you, ma’am, and stay on their chairs.
Be careful with my fine china, says me.
They laugh, they snort, and they wiggle like hares.
They dive off the couch, with giggles of glee.
They land heaped together, gulping in air.
Chairs in a pile at the bottom of the stairs,
Everything in sight has been licked by Lee,
Chairs in a heap at the bottom of stairs,
Strange things are happening, how can this be?
I think I have been invaded by bears!
They used to come only at night,
And hide way up under the bed,
Tucking their feet clear out of sight,
Ready to angrily pinch my pinky toes red,
D A D D Y! I’d holler, and scream.
M O M M Y! I would cry and yell.
S I S S Y! I’d shriek in my dream,
Heartbeat knowing I was about to be killed,
My own child picked up on this gloom
The first time he stayed in grandma’s house.
M O M M Y ! D A D D Y! He yelled, in full scared bloom.
I ran in, heart beating fast, expecting to see a little gray mouse.
What is it, Son? I asked my train-covered pajama wearing little man.
It’s the monsters he whispered, his amber and brown eyes as big as my head.
I nodded. “They’ll get you too, if you fall and land.”
So you’d better lay down right now, and stay in that bed.
3/28/2018
testing boundaries
already
~ he's not yet two
Submitted on January 30, 2019 for contest PITHY PANTS sponsored by MAUREEN MCGREAVY - RANKED 3RD
A plea of the unborn child to its mother.
Wake Me Up
When the time is ripe, awaken me!
I long to see your world.
How many blessings there will be;
They're soon to be unfurled!
I'll see you with my eager eyes,
Your soothing voice I'll hear.
One day I'll thank Jehovah God
that you have kept me near.
I want to grasp your finger, please,
and feel your warm embrace.
I want to heartily reflect
the smile upon your face.
I want to learn to walk and talk
and say my ABC's.
I want to learn of animals
and count my 123's.
I'll learn these things if you teach me,
yes, I will learn them so.
I'll hug you tightly every day
and never let you go.
I'll need your comfort when I cry;
At times, life can be rough.
However, I think you will find
Your love will be enough.
In fact, I'll bring you days of joy
where you are feeling pain,
and just as you have cared for me,
You'll see me do the same.
When time is ripe, please, let me live;
I want to wake up too!
I want to live a joyful life.
I want to cherish you.
Please wake me up when time has come.
Please don't send me away.
A precious gift you now possess
Miraculous each day!
Chanté Walker
2/22/20
A toddler in a stroller passed
And, looking at her face,
It seemed to me that she was
Merely staring into space.
Which made me wonder – could it be
She’d nothing on her mind?
If not, and I could read her thoughts,
What musings would I find?
I wish I had a lollipop.
I need some better toys.
My pre-school class has way too many
Mean and nasty boys.
My lunch today was yucky.
Why does Mommy have to work?
And why did Daddy come home mad
And call his boss a jerk?
I know, I might be way off base.
Perhaps within that stare
Were thoughts of all the happy things
She couldn’t wait to share.
If it is off, I must turn it on.
If it is on, I must turn it off.
If it is folded, I must unfold it.
If it is a liquid, it must be shaken, then spilled.
If it a solid, it must be crumbled, chewed, stepped on or smeared.
If it is high, it must be reached.
If it is shelved, it must be unshelved.
If it is pointed, it must be run with at top speed.
If it has leaves, they must be picked.
If it is plugged, it must be unplugged.
If it is not trash, it must be thrown away.
If it is in the trash, it must be removed, inspected, and thrown on the floor.
If it is closed, it must be opened.
If it does not open, it must be screamed at.
If it has drawers, they must be rifled.
If it is a pencil, it must write on the refrigerator, monitor, or table.
If it is full, it will be more interesting emptied.
If it is empty, it will be more interesting full.
If it is a pile of dirt, it must be laid upon.
If it is stroller, it must under no circumstances be ridden in without protest. It must be pushed by me instead.
If it has a flat surface, it must be banged upon.
If Mommy's hands are full, I must be carried.
If Mommy is in a hurry and wants to carry me, I must walk alone.
If it is paper, it must be torn.
If it has buttons, they must be pressed.
If the volume is low, it must go high.
If it is toilet paper, it must be unrolled on the floor.
If it is a drawer, it must be pulled upon.
If it is a toothbrush, it must be inserted into my mouth.
If it has a faucet, it must be turned on at full force.
If it is a phone, I must talk to it.
If it is a bug, it must be swallowed.
If it doesn't stay on my spoon, it must be dropped on the floor.
If it is not food, it must be tasted.
If it IS food, it must not be tasted.
If it is dry, it must be made wet with drool, milk, or toilet water.
If it is a car seat, it must be protested with arched back.
If it is Mommy, must make her dirty
If it is sibling, must slap,kick,and fight.
If it has four legs, must squeeze tight until makes noise
If big person is on phone, must make lots of noise
If tv is not on cartoons, scream until they are
If food is not good, throw it, refuse to eat it and cry until big people give you something good
wobbly legs misstep
toddler tumbles to the floor
screaming with fright
playful puppy
spinning round and round
trying to catch its tail
dog sniffing the grass
searching for the perfect spot
to have a poop
Dedicated to Kyle, My Darling Son
During my first time attendance
at a church large and splendid,
I clutched my toddler child
who clutched his action figure.
Without so much as a whisper
when the service began,
my son quietly played
with his small plastic man.
As the minister shared his sermon,
my little man began squirming.
I put him on my lap, feeling certain,
his behavior would not worsen.
Returning to the minister’s words,
it was but an end fragment I heard,
“… most powerful force known to man???”
Suddenly, my son chair-stood straight with action figure
raised to extremely loud state, "BATMAN."
My sweet little angel, playing outside in the mud
But wait it hasn't rained... how can there be... oh crud.
11/24/2021
YOUR FUNNIEST COUPLET EVER Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
I still have faint memories of the day
When in our small living room I did play
A toddler of three, spinning on my head
Lord, why wasn’t I born a boy instead?
Acrobatic talent was freely shown
But I was wearing a dress; grandma moaned
Swatted me, “Act like a lady,” she said
Lord, why wasn’t I born a boy instead?
My mother smiled, took a different approach
The acrobat skills she did not reproach
“You may take lessons,” to classes she led
Lord, why wasn’t I born a boy instead?
‘Cause mom insisted I take ballet, too
And just the very thought made me feel blue
Dancing on toes caused foot soreness widespread
Lord, why wasn’t I born a boy instead?
Eight years of lessons, but ne’er ladylike
Gracefulness failed to emerge from this tyke
To this day, I’d rather spin on my head
Lord, why wasn’t I born a boy instead?
*For Paula's Baby Boo's Shoes Contest
I was shopping in the local mall
When a toddler just started to bawl
He stamped his tiny feet
And demanded a treat
But his mum wouldn’t buy a football!
He continued to scream and shout
His small mouth displayed a huge pout
But much to his chagrin
His mum did not cave in
Just warned him he could get a clout!
His dad took the child by the hand
And said words he could understand
When your mummy says no
Don’t put on a floor show -
Good parenting really is grand!
(Just for the record I'm not advocating it's good parenting to smack a child - it just happened to rhyme for the poem which is fictional)
Incidentally in October 2017 Scotland was the first place in the UK to ban parents from smacking their child... I wonder how successful that will be!
12/24/17
When he walks – a jogging walking stumble,
Hands flap while moving,
Heavy feet plonk onto the floor,
The dull foot tapping of a toddler,
Where he wants to play, other toddlers live,
Pushing, frowning at those smothering what they target,
Why haven’t I got?,
Why? Why? Why? Want it now?
A noise he makes means something,
A noise like “ahh” or “ehh”,
Because he put his pinching fingers to his mouth,
It means dinner-time or “derrr” to him.
He didn’t eat as much as he hoped,
It is wiped a quarter onto his face,
In his hair, on his top, on his neck somehow,
On Daddys sleeve.
A jambalaya of interesting stimuli,
Cars, trains, planes, colours, noises, toys, people, lights,
Memories of desires, tastes, feelings and smells,
Too much can causes a brain electrical discharge.
The chapter of fun is ending,
He sees his bus and hears “home?” spoken with both request and instruction,
Bus wheels rumbling, the motion of movement, the background noises; dings and beeps,
The bus moves off with a heave of people.
He is quiet at the second bus stop,
He moves with only a twitch,
He banks his memories and falls asleep,
It’s a tough life being a toddler.
Toddler tweet
Merry blue dressed Bob, the builder,
Please return my reddish toy rooster,
I’ll give you my toy elephant,
A bubbly grey buoyant infant,
He is a long nosy mister.
Rizwana bhurani.
21-10-2015