Short Babysit Poems

Du-Rag, braids, pierced ear,
Slang, sagging pants, walk with limp.
May I babysit?...

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There are beings, I am told,
Mother Nature relies on,
Elemental fairies who,
Babysit the plants.
...

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Tired Fairy Granny did sit
Upon the sunflower's brown seed.
As dragonfly round her did orbit,
Then from her small hand did feed.

As darkness overtook the sky,
Fairy Gran needs to babysit.
She will have to be rested to fly,
And get there lickety-split.     ...

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In Spring

In spring water troughs 
fart all the 
musical notes, butterflies go to 
Collage school, four-leaf clovers babysit 
bulldogs, placemats collect bits of 
string to 
make balls, lichen await letters from 
royalty all over 
the world, sticks go for 
runs, not to 
lose weight, but just for 
fun.
...

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Brittany 
It means adorable, clever,and gifted, 
It is the number 13, 
It is like a rose, 
It is laughing at a funny joke, 
It is the memory of my mom, 
Who taught me honesty and responsibility, 
When she asked me to babysit the kids, 
My name is Brittany, 
It means believing in your dreams and never letting anyone tell you that you can or can not do something....

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If Leebird calls me, I know that she wants something.
A break from her children, a car ride to somewhere, something.
I do not believe she has ever called me for any other reason.
I wonder what her children are learning as they watch and listen.
Do they think you only call your neighbor when you need something?
Feeling sorry for them, I agree once again to babysit....

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The babies are so much fun,
So cuddly and warm,
So snuggly, and wonderful,
So ugly when first born.

The babies are so loved,
So cherished, so alive!
But the newborns, with their cat-cries,
Are so annoying when they cry.

Yes, I will babysit your baby.
And we can play and sing and laugh.
I will give her and him both bottles,
But if it is a newborn, I will pass....

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Coffee on the go.
Only nine dollars.
Plus tax, which brings it up to sixteen dollars.
Plus a tip for pouring it, so wave your twenty good-bye.
In the seventies, we could feed a family of eight for a week on twenty dollars.
A great deal, my millennium daughter told me smugly.
Obviously she is too well educated to have ever made 
A quarter an hour to babysit seven children like we used to....

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My jacket has a little stain
So should I wear it? I'll refrain
Except on days I babysit;
My grandkids will not mind one bit.

In fact, I really do suspect
(But can't be sure - I never checked)
That where this blotch first took its bow
Was in the place I'll wear it now.

A garment's lifespan must depend
On how it's treated 'til the end,
So what one wears with babes along
Will never really last too long....

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Enigmatically stubborn to style, the coif
Some days it can be easily pulled off
Other days it requires an exorcism
Like Zoolander it can look like ‘Magnum’

Hides my receding hairline like a charm
Sophistication to my head’s yardarm
Its antidote is a very windy day
Requiring heavy doses of hairspray

When it works my lady wants to stroke it
I recoil in fear, making her remit
For a single finger can ruin it
It’s a fickle angel to babysit
...

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The dollhouse was a gift from us
For Chanukah, one year.
Our grandkids played a lot with it
And that’s why it’s still here.

On Fridays, when we babysit
(Though mostly they’re in school)
I do a bit of straightening,
But just in minuscule.

For I like when the dollhouse
Has its furniture all neat
And every little figure’s
In a bed, a crib or seat.

I rarely find it that way
And the dolls might be misplaced
But I make it look the way
My childhood self would have embraced....

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The pumpkin sits there waiting 
For its jack-o-lantern face,
Which soon enough that orange smoothness
It will thus replace.

Decisions will be left to both
The grandkids and the dad
Regarding its expression -
Happy, scary, shocked or mad.

I won't be there when they begin
The scooping of the seeds
But hope they're toasted, a tradition
Nana always heeds.

Next Friday, when we babysit,
I'll see what they have made,
Which may be in the garbage
Or, I'm hoping, still displayed....

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