Long Chidren Poems
Long Chidren Poems. Below are the most popular long Chidren by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chidren poems by poem length and keyword.
There is a a purity born into every baby…an innocence that runs deep…I imagine every parent feels it whenever they watch their baby sleep.
We not only see it in the way they sleep…but in the morning when they rise…we see it in the way they look at us…it’s in their smile…in their eyes.
I saw it in my children and grandchildren…in the different things they’d say and do…and I imagine you’ve seen it in your children…and in your grandchildren too.
I’m also sure you’ve seen it even if you don’t have children…if that was never meant to be…because innocence is one of the easiest and most endearing sights our eyes will ever see.
Yes, if you want to view a little innocence…watch a child…listen to their sounds…you’ll quickly come to realize…that is…where innocence abounds.
And we’re not alone…nature also sees their innocence for why do you suppose…she allows the ladybug to crawl upon their finger…and the butterfly to land upon their nose.
But innocence is fragile and as the years go by
if it’s not cared for…
if it’s not nurtured…
there’s a chance that it may die.
So I pray…once born…once created…once that innocence arrives…
we’ll do our best with all our children…to keep that innocence alive..
For I can think of nothing more distressing…
more tragic…
a more sorrowful expense…
than a child who’s lost their purity…
who’s lost their trust…
who’s lost their innocence.
Let us live...
War in Ukraine, in Gaza, in Lebanon, in Iran and also, some time later, war will break out, in the whole world, too..
And between the ruins of decadence and death, we are just here, too.
We, the newborns and the little children of this world, who certainly want and have the right to live, just like you do, too.
The silent innocent victims of all the wars are as always and mostly, exactly, just we.
Because you are at least that, who do still provoke the wars, you are those, who you sell weapons, you are that, who are bombing us, or you send drones and rockets against us, at last and obviously, for your own illegal and pointless wins, only.
Against us, who want and have the right to live, just like you do, too...
Therefore, you, who are provoking the wars in this our world, stop finally selling the weapons and the other tools of the death and let us live:
WITHOUT WARS,
WITHOUT BOMBINGS AND
WITHOUT ROCKETS AND TERROR ABOVE OUR HEADS..
And also, abolish for ever the wars and let us live with our hands, our feet and our good hope to grow up.
And please, let us not getting disables or even dead, before having time to head on life, sun, heaven, universe and the nature, which has created for us too, our Allmighty and Allcreator Lord.
Yes, let us live too, just like you live, because, beyond and over all, we are absolutely not fault at you, at all.
Thomas Akritidis
See how frozen rice brings gaiety
from the weight of a half-starved life ,
palms etching the barbs of terrorism;
Already the villainous hours smell of puss,
ripe lesions , and unbearable heat :
dried bones snapping from gun-barrels
of greedy, power- laden pillagers --
the hissing growl of wars
rake bloody sky from its quiet days .
So chidren , listen well...build
A new earth blessed with peaceful hearth
and fresh broth,
clutch all neighborly moments endeared,
whispering prayers for safe glide
soothing night's guardianship ... and as
You lay on pure lights from angels' wings,
live each hour with grace of integrity
to hold not a chaos brimming with envy;
as Spirit renews a world lulled by love,
What tales your leaves must whisper
of youths tall in your strong arms.
Pretending to be pirates
in a terrible, fierce storm.
Or lovers in your shadows
making vows they sometimes kept;
dreamer's secret hideaway,
underneath leaves, young boys slept.
Many years honed your boldness,
growing taller, stronger, blest.
You were proud to play sentry
standing guard so birds could nest.
You were the featured player
in those years of grandeur past.
Years have now turned against you
and have burdened you at last.
Growing older with seasons,
branches balding, and falling.
You stand proud as you listen
to echoes and their calling.
My good friend, grand old oak tree
I will sit with you at last
We'll tell each other stories
of those days that have long passed.
April, 2020
for Wisdom from Trees Poetry Contest
by Anoucheka Gangabissoon