Long Babyhood Poems
Long Babyhood Poems. Below are the most popular long Babyhood by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Babyhood poems by poem length and keyword.
Smokey was a funny cat,
You could see him think.
His place of choice to do this,
Was table or kitchen sink.
He'd loll about for hours,
In seemingly deep thought;
Musing o'er life's mysteries,
Or the mouse he never caught.
He looked so wise just sitting there,
Mysterious and ancient,
Never bothering anyone,
Complacent and so patient.
The only thing he didn't like,
Was being combed and groomed.
If you picked up his comb and brush,
He'd quickly leave the room.
I swear sometimes he read our minds,
Knew what we were about.
He understood our every word.
Of that there was no doubt.
He was my friend from babyhood.
We were babes together.
He taught me climbing, stealth and patience.
Our bond could not be severed.
He taught me to look nonchalant,
And even innocent,
If by chance I should get caught,
Whene'er house rules were bent.
Whenever Mom and Dad were cross,
He taught me how to blend,
Into the background or become,
So cute they had to grin.
My memories of him are fond.
I thought he'd live forever.
He taught me fun and love and loyalty.
He won't die, not ever.
Smokey was a funny cat.
You could see him think.
His place of choice to do this,
Was the kitchen sink.
He'd loll about for hours,
In seemingly deep thought;
Musing o'er life's mysteries,
Or the mouse he never caught.
He looked so wise just sitting there,
Mysterious and ancient,
Never bothering anyone,
Complacent and so patient.
The only thing he didn't like,
Was being combed and groomed.
If you picked up his comb and brush,
He'd quickly leave the room.
I swear sometimes he read our minds,
Knew what we were about.
He understood our every word,
Of that there was no doubt.
He was my friend from babyhood.
We were babes together.
He taught me climbing, stealth and patience.
Our bond could not be severed.
He taught me to look nonchalant,
And even innocent,
If by chance I should get caught,
Whene're house rules were bent.
Whenever Mom and Dad were cross,
He taught me how to blend,
Into the background or become,
So cute they had to grin.
My memories of him are fond.
I thought he'd live forever.
He taught me fun and love and loyalty.
He won't die, not ever.
S_ A_ H_ born...
twenty three years ago
today February 4th, 2022
begat about nine months prior,
approximately late April/early May 1998,
she exited thru fully dilated cervix
10 centimeters or just under 4 inches
immediately cherished as a precious gift
her radiant pink flesh did healthily glow
despite developmental delay
observed during babyhood stage,
blessed timely intervention
hallelujah to countless social services
helped bring her up to speed
and in accordance with average statistics
pertaining to population of girls
at various ages of her life
most vital metrics indicated she did grow,
and matured into an attractive young lady
now mindful (courtesy common sense
and valuable life lessons)
said offspring quite aware the necessity
to comply with status quo
unlike this nonestablishmentarian papa,
who frittered away priceless time show
wing measly abysmal track records
regarding academic and employment, though
not necessarily criminal, I barely lived
analogously solely placing big toe
within streaming rush of opportunities
upon reflection, I experience woe.
Thank you immeasurably youngest daughter
valuable Shayna Punim
beloved gifted progeny bold
coaching, daring, encouraging... herself
whether the weather hot or cold
to take positive growth risks
you count as more precious
than fine spun gold
enhancing mein kampf,
whose absence warrants
birth mama or papa to hold
our darling offspring,
when she clamors for attention,
yet prohibitive physical distance
renders impossible mission
to proffer sought after nurturing,
hence the best attempt to lyft
your spirits (if sagging)
finds me driving in one direction
across information superhighway insync with
electronic uber global positioning satellite
merely wishing ye happy birthday
now intent to email thee told.
YOU GO GIRL!
Mom
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
MOM !!
My first shout out loud...
Where is my metal
When i am weak
Where is my coastline
From the deep...
Where is the fountainhead
Of our parenthood
Her heart is never locked
She rubs my ear
When I fear
And vows to love me
In solemn oath.
Where is my flawless
My entire vital wrap
My loyal guardian..
Who makes me golden.
My blanket when
I am cold..
MOM !!
I shout out loud...
Where is my trumpet call
In her shawl
She shouts from the hall
Our pact is unbreakable
In my babyhood of
Sore, cut and bleed
She be my nurse.
The jaundice, fever and the pox
She cure's it all away
Where is my night call
The tissue to my cry
My songster so enjoyable
Who tucks me in with lullabye
And hugs me so tight
As if I was part of her body.
Where is the little
That I know
From the one that brought
Me up to grow
MOM !!
I shout out loud...
Dad you are a food cart
Your place is high
In the house..
But MOM is my
My shout out loud...
First hero in this world
And my first cry out for help
Will always be ..
MOM !
You are upside down
WOW !
My triumphant call.
Smokey was a funny cat.
You could see him think.
His place of choice to do this,
Was table or kitchen sink.
He'd loll about for hours,
In seemingly deep thought,
Musing o'er life's mysteries,
Or the mouse he never caught.
He looked so wise just sitting there,
Mysterious and ancient,
Never bothering anyone,
Complacent and so patient.
The only thing he didn't like,
Was being combed and groomed.
If you picked up his comb and brush,
He'd quickly leave the room.
I swear sometimes he read our minds,
Knew what we were about.
He understood our every word,
Of that there was no doubt.
He was my friend from babyhood.
We were babes together.
He taught me climbing, stealth and patience.
Our bond could not be severed.
He taught me to look nonchalant,
And even innocent,
If by chance I should get caught,
Whene'er house rules were bent.
Whenever Mom and Dad were cross,
He taught me how to blend,
Into the background or become,
So cute they had to grin.
My memories of him are fond.
I thought he'd live forever.
He taught me fun and love and loyalty.
He won't die, not ever.
Leaving heavenly throne to reach-out mankind, the Messiah bore the status of condescension: His birth in the Bethlehem manger brought to Earth’s calendar a divine milestone, while glorious angelic choir and awed shepherds welcomed His babyhood.
offering love’s best
incarnation triumphant
eternal life reigns
Servant-leadership --- Christ exemplified as He ministered with mercy’s optimized best: healing the sick, feeding the multitudes, quickening the dead, forgiving the repentant, pronouncing beatitudes, drawing humanity nigh to the Almighty.
utmost caring shown
compassion indeed at work
blissful selflessness
Falsely accused with blasphemy unpardonable, betrayed by intimate companions, indicted to pay sins’ penalty, Jesus bore the cross to Calvary, giving up the ghost to reconcile sinners to the holy Creator: freeing those who trust Him from iniquities’ condemnation, assuring them heaven’s security, and granting peace so blissful.
grace and justice met
redemption truly fulfilled
blest crucifixion
Entombed, verily secured; yet after three days of burial, the Saviour rose amidst guarding soldiers manifesting His omnipotence: mighty wonder proving His expertise in impossibilities, miraculous act only the Sovereign can do and marvelous magnificence against vanity of temporal existence.
power over grave
resurrection smiting death
hope of believers
Heeded toward the Father above, the Lord entrusted the Great commission-fruition to His church: to build lives, spread His love, exalt His name through the Holy Spirit’s guidance, gearing, guarding, and girding while advancing His kingdom*.
pursuits accomplished
ascension so jubilant
to come again soon
*Matthew 28:19-20 Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen.
September 2, 2020
1st place, "Let the Pens Flow - Haibun" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jenish Somadas; judged on 9/16/2020.
This is featured in the book, PS: It's Poetry: An anthology of contemporary poetry from around the world. Paperback – November 27, 2020 by Arczis (Author), PoetrySoup (Author)
Steps ***
Remember standing barefoot
In a stream or lake or ocean as the current of water
ran cool and fast over the ankles?
That liquid, which made our planet
a home for life, beckoning us and so delightfully.
Think of walking in night, without
lights, becoming self-contained,
losing external references, seeking the moon
or some neighbor’s window, alight still...while
glancing quickly down to squint and know if
the next step will continue on the pavement.
There is good reason to remember
walking barefoot in cool, thick mud —
luscious scrunching the toes in
that earth’s batter!
There is meaning in the memory of
tortured stepping barefoot over a
length of dry, sun-burning sand...so
instantly blistering, so evil in its lack
of relief, at least until escaping its distance.
Think of the first challenging, trudging steps
in a knee-high snowfall...like the first steps
of turning to a belief in God and so much easier
with others, then reaching a route that has been plowed.
Think of journeys of the mind, walking
in times and on the streets we’ve never before been
or want to imagine a return to...lively, but yet
non-existent wanderings, much like those
we walk in sleeping dreams.
We cannot recall those very first
steps we took, thrusting us out of
babyhood, taken by a natural calling
when we are too young for any conscious intent,
having only an entirely physical desire to move...
over there...
set within a wordless desire to rise,
innately curious to discover!
Yesterday I watched baby Emmie scrambling
in her stroller. Within, she sensed there must be
some other way to subtract sitting, to move
through the room.... Compulsion gripped
her desire to rise, to step, even run...her legs
kicking non-stop ready to launch...
Only recently emerging from paralysis,
I can sympathize with Emmie’s chair-stuck
scrambling frustration. It is
the human wish to set off in motion,
off on explorations.
——————————————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger 5/10/21
the number falling before three and preceding five
sacred in my culture to ground us to the nature of all things
the time of life when 'being' develops
and connects mind, body and spirit with life
the need for sanctuary, meditation, strength, being self
is found in the teachings of elders . . .
it is the life phase of babyhood, child, adult and elderly
the healing herbs in my culture
of sage, lemongrass, tobacco and cedar
it is the seasons of spring, summer, autumn and winter
the directions of north, south, east and west
the elements of fire, air, water and earth
movements of a symphony, strings of a violin
calling birds in a famous Christmas song
suits in playing cards, legs of furniture, wheels, corners
three plus one . . .
the fab Beatles, a quartet, tetrad
limbs on the human body, angles
lucky clover found in the green, green grass
weeks of advent, shape of the holy cross
the number of angels watching over me from Heaven . . .
____________________________
February 7, 2020
Poetry/Free Verse/Four
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1223-841-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Pups, imps, joeys, wiggling tailed marsupials, hunting in parties of five.
Deadly facial cancer has killed lots of us, it’s a wonder I am still alive.
I screech when I eat, carrion, my utmost favorite food, road kill.
My aggression insured me at babyhood alive I would be still.
There were fifty in my litter, but only four teats so we scrappers had to fight.
Growling and viciously, snarling at each other, slapping away nice ones in the night.
Our mother was grabbed by a caveman devil who dragged her off by the neck.
I was incensed, and promptly chased after them, thinking “what the heck?”
Some of my siblings were frightened out of the old hollow log,
not many decided to stay.
I was not one of them. I showed my teeth,
and my aggressors promptly ran away.
Wombats, wallabies, opossums and other animals on this island of mine.
Steer clear of my hollow log, knowing I will
snap them up and eat them in no time.
It was the time,
When there was no sign of dawn and dusk
Hot summers and chilled winters gave us new tasks
Heavy storms and rains brought us holidays
In return, we gifted boats of papers and clays
It was the time,
When days were spent in chanting numbers and rhyme
And face was covered with candy grime
We never knew why the orange fireball chased us
But longed to dine with the moon on a cloud bus.
It was the time,
When cycle rides were roller coasters
And one candy could buy a million kisses
Wet summer mud was yummier than cadburies
And our cute talks were considered as juicy as strawberries
Babyhood is so precious and angelic
Don't kill it with a sickle and brick
It's the Spring time in every Jack's life
Let kids dance and jump to the waves of Fife.
Preserve every moment of Childhood
Keep the memories alive in every bark and wood.