Little Poems - Poems about Little

Remembering the frantic little boy with strawberry blond hair who didn't say boo Nonverbal (though he could talk) most of his responses happened to be witnessed as his characteristic and courtesy enigmatic trademark shoulder shrug. If born free and clear today skilled professional diagnosticians employed within the mental health field, would probably unanimously agree he met criteria as high functioning autistic spectrum predicated upon withdrawn and introverted behavior classic...

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eyes contact between eyes ...

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I never said the fish was that big, just long enough for your surprise. Yes, the sky did fall down once - though not in ways you've come upon. The art of the little white lie is a Trojan horse disguised to catch your attention. To trick you to pose or question what you'd never otherwise ask. The lie, error or mistake, flips the mind...

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in every pack of pistachios there are one or two shells which are resistant to the fingernail the addictive leverage the satisfying splitting apart you put them aside and save them for later meanwhile pick, click, chew and finally return to the awkward ones refusing to yield their treasure curse them go ahead curse them you won't be defeated, you will solve their riddle you...

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Poem written by my little daughter When I go to the park I climb right up to the top of the slide and slither down quick the other side .. I swing up high and then down low whirling round fast as I can go ... I like to hang from the climbing frame and ride in...

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When Little Boys Fall in Love A Meditation on Growing Up ## I. [Age 6] — First Light You gather caps like secret gold, Arrange them neat, their stories told. I trade my best for one you scorned— The day I learned that love's not warned. ## II. [Age 7] — The Promise We build a fort, our cardboard throne, Crowned kings of dirt,...

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It never shouts. It doesn’t pound the table or raise its hands to the ceiling. It speaks like wind nudging a loose leaf, whispering sideways when the road seems stitched shut. Sometimes, it’s the hush between your name and the echo. Other times, it’s thunder disguised as a tremble— that pause before you say yes to something terrifying and right. It doesn't argue. It waits while you weigh silence against...

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It's a dirty little business And I've never stooped so low But if I stay here long enough I'll dig myself a hole There's trouble all around And death to be expected But the tools that I have found leave's a wound, that's undetected It'll take time for all to see What I've done here on this day 'bout the time that they take...

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Calm down, little bird. Try not to speak. You must have a bullet in your beak. Just let me give this poem a tweak. Cheer up little bird - forever fly. Forget about the bullet that whizzed by....

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Nuggety nudger & nurdler Thorpey did embody Epitomise, personify Test Cricket Someone small standing tall Reliant defiant giant but Fragile and flawed Did he know he was adored? Cricket was his safe place In the 90's nadir Thorpey gave us solace Succour..grace & cheer Resilience & Brilliance Beacon of light Shining bright hark back Dancing in the dark Having a...

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Two small fists discover the world is round, blue, and fits exactly between wonder and wanting. Mouth opens the first laboratory, where everything must be tested: texture, temperature, the taste of curiosity. Eyes focus, hands follow, brain fires tiny lightning storms of connection: I can make things happen. This is how learning begins, not with books or words, but with the simple revolutionary...

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i fell in love with you, like falling asleep— slowly, then all at once. my heart warms everytime i look at you, my gaze lingers, each time you walk past. now i find myself remembering you at every chance. all the love songs and late night scenarios, they seem to be masked with thoughts of you. though,...

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I walked past the cherry trees today, Their petals, falling every which way. As if it were pink snow: soft, light, and rose. Taking in the breeze before being cast down to the shadows. I stopped and stared, simply standing alone, The world around me seemed to turn to stone. It was as if someone had hit pause there, With blossoms dancing...

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Dedicated to my dearest youngest sister, Happy Birthday Lucy (May 31) Age of novice years, a glow of purity along with a smile of innocence, born with a tiny frame yet exuded an ultimate presence. A light like no other, tremendous capability, but how so? In a sky of darkness, you are a tiny dot of bright light surrounded by ones of a larger proportion that casts a shadow...

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the floorboard that gasps when stepped on the blue bulb pulsing in an amber-lit room the coffee stain colonizing your blue shirt— some days, we’re nothing but a tiny inconvenience sharpen a pencil too far—it snaps gargled too long, you swallow by accident sending flowers too early— some days, we’re nothing but the clock that limps or leaps some days, we are the red shirt always...

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