Long Bassinet Poems
Long Bassinet Poems. Below are the most popular long Bassinet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bassinet poems by poem length and keyword.
They shared a smile that will last forever,
as she gazed at him while he gazed back,
from within his little blue woven bassinet.
She reflects that he has his father's eyes,
and his nose as well, how it rounds by its
tip...charming, she thought in admiration.
The shape of his face is noticeably sturdy,
and bold, yet the shade of his skin, is fair
like her own--later on, it'll become bolder.
"I must show and tell your father, as soon
as he gets home from work and I think he
may know...so seeing that I care, I search
tirelessly our family trees, and your father
and I, are blessed having a son like thee."
I dreamt I was in a church,
I was walking up to the candlelit altar.
There were clergy garbed in vestments,
whether they were Catholic or Episcopal,
I don't recall.
A mourning Mass was about to begin.
I approached an open small mahogany coffin,
an infant lost to abortion was lying in it,
instead of the bassinet it deserved to be
born into.
I placed my hand tenderly on the
lacy-robed babe.
Suddenly, the baby stirred and came to life,
gently cooing as many babies do.
The Life Dream,
sweet omnipresent Christ,
our prayers for unborn and born children.
Your infants of the ages,
of the earth's mother's receiving bosoms.
Our sorrows become our joys,
we saved through Your grace-
more of Your precious ones today. ~
Approach of Wind, it chills
in a particular way.
Unexplainable, how it carries in competing tandem,
of unknown elements brought into the arena, bare.
Doctor's bag opened of winds,
surgical biopsy underway,
in new mandated trailways.
Membraned channels of envelope streams
holds aloft vapors of vial serums,
like a bassinet with black wings.
Intheorium sends it's postage.
It soothes the Cesarean Earth in her pangs,
for mankind's evil is great. How can it stand to be.
So he sends them a strong delusion
so that they may believe a lie.
Armies shall pillage the Family and
upend the carts in the Marketplace.
Souls shall be scattered to the four winds, looking desperately for a compass
that can find the head.
Delivery, once slow, has increased exponentially.
Magma rivers will haunt the landsape like lions,
Nemian.
Great forges looking for gold to smelt into idols of Pompeii.
For he shall stand in his Pomp in the Temple,
then sit, as if he is God.
I am taking care of my 11-month-old grandson. I love every-minute and he's stolen my heart. I've seen the growth within him with lots of love and affection he gets. He is crawling and into everything. I never realized how many things needed for this small infant.
Car seat or they won't let you leave the hospital without one
As many diapers as you think you'll need
Diaper bag that handles everything you need on the go
Baby changing table, diaper change as quick as you can they get pretty squirmy
Wipes for their sensitive skin
Diaper rash ointment relieves baby's painful rash
Grocery store plastic bags, fantastic for disposing all those stinky diapers
Baby bath tub, there is such a sweet smell of a freshly bathed baby
No tears baby soap
Washcloths
Baby bath towels hooded or non-hooded
Sleepers with buttons and snaps, they are so much easier to put on
Swaddle or baby blankets, wrapped snug arms from wiggling free
Nail clippers, he loves scratching the back of my arms and face
Baby brush
Baby comb
Thermometer
Baby clothes, they'll grow out of it so fast
Socks
Shoes
Bottles
Formula or milk for hungry
Bottle brush
Baby teething ring to relieve sore gums
Baby binkis it tends to calm them when they are not feeding
Baby dishes
Baby spoon
Variety of baby food and cereal
Juices
Highchair
Bibs
A rocking chair to rock and kiss them good night.
Bassinet or Crib
Crib sheets
Toys, age appropriate for learning
Baby walker, fantastic to keep them busy for a little while
Stroller, a must when you walk or shop
Baby proof your whole house, once they start crawling, they are into everything
Camera, time goes so fast you'll want to remember it all.
7/29/2019
A dream worth living for
Born in the image of an unspoiled soul
Newborn stretches it's small limbs
Hungers, cries, crawls, and walks
A new peaceful dawn, a new world unfurled
5/14/2019
Poetry Contest: Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
I wait for you in the moonlight
In the quiet of the night
Within this room that holds
So many moments of your life
The dreams you've dreamed
Still linger here
Between these flower-papered walls
That look beyond the window
At the Autumn leaves that fall
A quilted robe lies draped across
A wicker rocking chair
That held you and rocked you
When grief
Was more than you could bear
A bassinet now empty
Where once a baby slept
Remains enshrined
Chained to a time
By the million tears you wept
A picture of a handsome man
With you there by his side
A bride and groom so in love
With stardust in their eyes
Stands behind a pane of glass
Within a gilded frame
Where your lip prints and
finger prints
On its surface..still remain
And now...
I hear your slippers
As they slide across the floor
And I hear...
Your laboured breathing
Outside this bedroom door
And I know that soon
I'll hold you
Here in this flower-papered room
And soothe your old
And frail body
In the light of a silver moon
I...your old companion
An antique Rosewood Bed
Let me hold you...Mary Beth
I..the best friend you've ever had
Let me hold you through the night
And bring you back...again
Sweet Mary Beth
Into the morning light.
I know I should not whine or frivolously fret,
but I believe I have lost my pet marmoset.
I have also lost a blue barrette, a red tea set,
and a beautifully carved purple aigrette.
They all went down in the drain,
putting me in a particularly uncomfortable cold sweat.
I did not mind losing Jeanette,
a snake who was never an exceptionally kind or loving pet,
I am sad about losing my baby’s bassinet
and a tiny edge of my bathroom’s finest moquette.
They both fell down the storm drain,
when I paused to look at my rapidly disappearing tea set
Way down deep in the bowels of the sewer,
and I am especially sad to lose my pet marmoset.
Here comes another person.
She has lost a briquette, diskette,
and a sliver of yellow georgette.
Written 2-28-2019
Contest: Down a Storm Drain Gone Forever
Sponsor: Eve Roper
I had a cat, a large one
I thought I loved the cat
The cat thought he loved me too!
Then, one day,
They took the cat away
The cat, with the bassinet, the little furry presence
And Sameeha’s science club chapstick
And I thought I was kissing scientific a book cover
Where he is artistic in a beauty in the other way, rare.
It was a cat. After all, it was just a cat
It had the nicest jacket ,
with hoodies on,
the cat used to sit on time,
the cat
And it had the fish, tummy time, happy face, and everything first time
For I never yearn to come back! For there, to chime!
It is just a known type of pain that I knew for far too long!
On a question paper, pm time, departmental too
Dealey Plaza, are you keeping right on the still unresolved Elm street?
Heavenly God , do you play around heavenly to utter Godsay, is your slip
Where you do not know usually after or before the strait the gate
You never knew Jack Ruby and you never knew Oswald
So you never knew other than too much other than, Please, other tall!
She waits,
eight black spindles joined at one end by a pivot, a compass.
Each pinpoint balanced at the intersections
of self-drawn polygons.
Legs jointed like the fingers of a skeleton,
deft, dexterous as a harpist.
Body in two sections with ample abdomen,
the African who carries the water jug on her head.
Or an Indian, the untouchable with her caste mark,
the microscopic grains dropping through the hourglass
like drops of blood.
Blind, she has the surrogate sense of a seismograph.
She would feel a disturbance in the web
were it only a thought.
Never mind she lives in a dark corner
as devoid of light as she is of personality,
she needs neither.
She does not look as the wrapped body of her cannibalized mate
as at a gilt-framed photograph of the dearly departed.
The egg sac is not a silk-lined bassinet,
the hanging ornament
to all her future hopes and dreams.
She is absent of frontal lobes,
moralizing modifiers,
second thoughts.
An instrument of logic,
mate=food
sac=young,
syllogisms minus all prepositions,
additional excess cargo to be jettisoned
as the dried shells of devoured prey.
No welcome mats on the front step,
no settees in the parlor,
no cunning seductress with scarlet claws.
Only a modem waiting in the spaceless black.
The sunlight streams through the windowpane
Casting a rainbow around my newborn
In her bassinet as she sleeps.
Brightening my world with flickering magic.
Her silky blonde curls glisten with the spiritual light.
Her soft cuddlable skin, her sweet powder sent,
And a smile to melt anybody’s heart,
She’s a flower of radiance and perfection.
Oh, my heart warms as I hold her hand, so tiny
In mine, and in my world. I marvel and sigh,
How beautiful a gift I’ve been blessed.
My tipsy mind dances on beams of lights
And shadows of songs and merry, dancing
Upon specks of dust across the floor.
Ebullient memories will be made giving her
The courage and strength to move mountains.
Do not fall in love with a poet:
Breakfast would be a couplet.
Lunch would be a quatrain:
Personified, pithy and prolix on metaphoric train.
Supper would be a sonnet:
Smithereens of oomphs, entangled in esurience's enmesh.
On the spousal sunshine,
He would sew suit of slant rhymes.
For how long he would last in bassinet:
Measured in Troche, dactyl, anaspetic or iambic pentameter.
Advice for the shavers and doxy:
Lofty metaphors Clothed in paradoxical antithesis.
Talk more of many other things,
Your home is hyperbole of poetry.
19:05:05:13:51
Ancestor. Ancestral Pen. Ancestral piece. SOS
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