I Saw A Child Four Months Old Today
I SAW A CHILD FOUR MONTHS OLD TODAY
I saw a child four months old today
And was brought back to a most happy time in my life
When my children were very young-
Who could have believed this blessing would come again
And this small grandchild would make me feel
As I have not felt in years
That life itself is an incredible joy beyond any I ever could have expected
poem by Shalom Freedman
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This Spider World
Nine months in deep sleep,
Today a child is born;
This is the poetry of my way of life,
This is the poetry of your way of life;
Our minds to the peoples around us.
Nine months in deep sleep,
Today a child is born;
So enter into the world so sweet with,
The muse and the muses!
This Spider World is full of strings.
To and fro to make ends meet,
After nine months of deep sleep;
Of the potraits and masks of one's life,
When a child is born into this spider world.
Soft words like oil,
Smooth life like butter,
Of a joyous occasion with the muse;
Today a child is born.
This Spider World full of strings,
This act of 'to and fro' to make ends meet;
We are all in this Spider World together.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Grandchild Gives New Hope In Life
A GRANDCHILD GIVES NEW HOPE IN LIFE
A grandchild gives new hope in life
An old man plays and says nonsense
And is happy again-
A little smiling child
Who does not know or understand
Who cannot speak to me
Gives me hope again
And makes me forget
All my failed ambitions-
Because this small child lives
I regain my love of life-
What a blessing to be
A grandfather in my old age.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Our child once grown
What if my wife revealed that she was pregnant by me?
However, what if our child one day chose simply not to believe?
In nine months and eighteen years, I need to answer this question.
Nine months for God and my wife to give birth to the little one.
Eighteen year for us to train them in the way that they should go.
But, it is our child choice in whom to believe once grown and outside our front door.
At home, our child shall be instructed about the consequences of their sin.
Our child will understand the punishment of God for sin in the end.
I will train our child up in the Godly way that they should always go.
I will show them the love of the wonderful God I personally know.
Once grown, by us, our child shall be shown how to live life righteously.
Regardless in whom they believe, they will always be our child to me.
How would I feel if in spite of everything I taught and showed our child?
Our child decided, once grown, to take another way in life for a while.
Although taught while young not to steal; once grown they stole any way.
Although taught while young not to lie; once grown they lied every day.
Would I abandon them as quickly as the rest of the world?
Would they still be the prized apple of your heart and still be daddy’s little boy or girl?
Still, there is always a chance our child might choose in God not to believe.
If our child does, it is not because of the lack of the right instructions from me.
I will love our child even if by their life they chose not to follow God.
Because no matter what our child is an important part of my heart.
In who to continue to believe that major choice of life shall be their own.
But, they are still our child though they choose not to believe or act right once grown.
poem by Reginald Walker
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Children?
Children are the easily led,
Their learning is profound,
Their lift is happy and proud,
Why do parents forgive them?
We produce the fellow children
To lift and uplift each of us
When there happens a life.
Children need growth to boast,
To live and outlive, to death is their journey
After a life of straightforward happiness and bliss.
Felt good? Why children? Because, say Children,
We live among others who are like the mothers
In the land we call Children.
Child after child shall learn of the existing ones
That need admirals and generals of late.
The defence of a child is the greatest concern,
And I laugh at one who destroys life,
Ever in turmoil is a child because of this act.
Children will be enough to be today.
Children can upset no one who is old and ancient,
Selfless students are children.
However much you push and pull at the threads that children weave
And sort, and spread, and sew,
The adult will sew better and more often than a child.
That is the secret, children.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Innocence of Gold
I flicked of the TV
At a news report
About another child
Lost in innocence no more
I was once
An innocent child
Living so happy
Till I was dealt
One of life's blows
And just like the children
I learn of today
Losing their innocence
That's torn from their souls
It drowns us all
In the degradation of life
I want to scream
I want to shout
Make all this carnage stop
Why do you ask?
Would I even bother to say?
I just want you to know
What its like for a child
To lose in themselves
The innocence of gold
You cry with a passion
Inside your lost soul
You know not what to say
You know not what to do
You feel so alone
You feel so used
You hide all your secrets
And you cry every day
And pray ever night
Oh God take my life
You drown in your sorrows
Every single day
And wonder each time
What have I done in my life?
To deserve such cruelty
That's dealt this cruel life
But life goes on
You learn to be brave
You learn to ignore
Your family and friends
You learn to ignore
An out stretched hand
I know I am lucky
To be here today
So I advocate for children
Still trapped in this fate
poem by Kaila George
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Children's Special...
Every child is born with a gift,
and there is a day to celebrate it.
A child is your treasure given by God,
Be blessed so, and pray to the Lord,
for that child gives you happiness,
Gone are your day's of loneliness.
Childhood does not last,
Every child remembers the past,
It depends on how you groom,
Give the child more than a room.
A child carries an ocean of innocence,
not knowing it's consequence,
does a deed that is not desired,
Many parents have always admired.
Thinking of a day for children,
is a wonderful thought,
Cherish every moment of what they have brought,
to you with their playful minds,
which do leave a trail of joy in your mind.
Remember your own childhood days,
make it more than special today,
make the children feel how good you felt that day,
when you celebrated the children's day,
in your childhood days.
poem by Deepak Calyampoondi
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I Sent My Child To School Today
I sent my child to school today
With his little lunch box
When he came home he said his friend
Had gotten the chickenpox,
I sent my child to school today
And asked him what he learned
He told me about firemen
They taught him how not to get burned,
I sent my child to school today
He said, 'Do you know what they taught me? '
He told me they taught him numbers
As well as his ABC’s,
I sent my child to school today
A smile on his face
I gave him a kiss and a hug
And said, 'See ya funny face! ',
I sent my child to school today
His smile bright and wide
But an older child brought in a gun
How did he get it inside? ,
I sent my child to school today
As in every day
But the child with the gun started shooting
The reason? No one could say,
I buried my child after school today
All I can do is cry
I lost my child at school today
And nobody can tell me why.
poem by Doug Hollywood Davis
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My Little Man
I watch him breath
As he sleeps in his bed
No longer a child
But a man instead
He gave me new meaning
He gave me new life
He helped me be
A better human being in life
He came into being
From deep within me
Nine months he grew
A kick start to new life
The day he was born
I looked on in awe
At this small baby boy
Who gave me a chance?
At a wonderful new life
From baby to child
To teenager, then young man
I wonder and think
Is he ready for life?
Can he handle the journey?
That is now, his, own plight
Will he make the right choices?
When in doubt, when in strife
Softly I smile at my little man
Will he be the man?
I know he can be
To me he will always be
The small little miracle
That god gave to me
And yes I know
He is just like me
poem by Kaila George
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A Mother
How can a mother forget her child,
the child who is conceived nine months in the womb
the child that is cradled at daytime,
night time until dawn?
How can a mother forget her child?
How can a mother forget her child
the child who after the flow of months
has learned to stand and run?
How can a mother forget her child,
the child whose mouth imitates her mother`s tongue,
the child who after a year or two can say,
'Mama, I love you'?
How can a mother forget her child,
the child who is so dear in her own heart and mind,
the child that reveals the mystery of creation,
the beauty of growth and human interaction.
the infinity of our own universe
within its finite linear time?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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A Childs Cry
laying in bed looking up at the ceiling
my eyes got blurry, and my head started reeling.
i saw a vision start to take form
of a child who was unborn.
this child was in the womb of its mother
being fed by the tube to give it life.
he turned and looked straight at me
and its eyes were as big as can be.
he raised his small little hand
and signaled me to look inside.
it was something that he could not hide.
the vision came closer to me
just so that i could see.
i saw the pain that this child was in
because his mother was
thinking to abort
and for the last two months he had fought.
all the features that GOD was creating
was thought by the mother
of becoming belated.
this young mother was under peer pressure
to take this childs life
and it did not matter if it was wrong or right.
this young child was screaming at me
'how could they let this be'
i am life given by the lord
why would she want to abort.
tell her to give me a chance
so that i could live in the warmth
of her arms, and fill her heart with joy.
it would matter not, if i'm a girl or a boy.
can't she feel me, and see me
in her dreams at night
and that i'm in a perilous fight.
i want to live just like she
there is nothing wrong with me.
the vision started to fade away
and in my heart, i started to pray
let this child live another day
and from this woman the pain to go away.
LIFE IS SACRED, DON'T THROW IT AWAY
IF YOUR MOTHER THOUGHT LIKE YOU
YOU WOULD'NT BE HERE TODAY.
poem by Louis Rams
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Your child your pride, Your grandchild your guide
True
Our children are our pride
They give you
Immense pleasure
With their glowing innocence
And
Such newly discovered expressions
Which you have not experienced earlier
Their growth
Is always showering on you
A sense of satisfaction
Their intelligence
Is always rated by you
To be much higher than
What you possesed in your childhood
Their observations are
Special to you
And you waste not time
In executing corrective or preventive actions
To satisfy their needs
And you do that all with great pleasure
There comes a gap
As they mature
And you are relieved to see
A new childhood again
When your grandchild comes in your life
You see a still higher degree
Of innocence
And intelligence in this generation
You feel your grandchild
Has much greater potential
To achieve than
Your own child, leave alone
The very your own self
As you have gained
Some more maturity
Than what you had when you reared your child
And have crossed
Hurdles with deeper troubles
Your association with the new arrival
Gives you more pleasure
Than what you had with your child
Not only that
With a renewed syllabus
In the study of life
Your grandchild looks a professor to you
Had you seen a teacher in your child
Your grandchild guides you
Through a research project
On this subject
And confers on you a doctorate
Or rejects
Based on your self searching skills
And learning abilities
Your child your pride
Your grandchild your guide
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The mother and the artist
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of wonderfully emollient freshness; every
unfurling instant of impregnably magnificent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of spellbindingly undefeated innocence; every
unfurling instant of symbiotically pristine existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of timelessly unconquerable truth; every unfurling
instant of bounteously magnanimous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unfathomably unfettered creativity; every
unfurling instant of timelessly burgeoning existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of royally triumphant resplendence; every
unfurling instant of unconquerably majestic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of eternally exhilarating vivaciousness; every
unfurling instant of redolently insuperable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbelievably ameliorating optimism; every
unfurling instant of marvelously benign existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of brilliantly liberated camaraderie; every
unfurling instant of iridescently inscrutable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unshakably virgin righteousness; every
unfurling instant of beautifully untainted existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of uninhibitedly heavenly frolic; every unfurling
instant of tantalizingly sensuous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of compassionately humanitarian friendship; every
unfurling instant of magically mitigating existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of miraculously everlasting freshness; every
unfurling instant of invincibly coalescing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of pricelessly ubiquitous oneness; every unfurling
instant of robustly blessed existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbreakably Omnipotent desire; every unfurling
instant of victoriously effulgent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unceasingly reinvigorating fantasy; every
unfurling minute of poignantly charismatic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of insurmountably intrepid enchantment; every
unfurling minute of rhapsodically unhindered existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Omnisciently tranquil serenity; every unfurling
instant of endlessly bestowing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of perpetually fragrant breath; every unfurling
instant of Omnipresently benevolent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Immortally ardent love; every unfurling instant
of limitlessly fructifying existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fantastically alleviating poetry; every
unfurling instant of boundlessly splendid existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fabulously effervescent tanginess; every
unfurling instant of spiritually uplifting existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unlimitedly enlightening Sunshine; every
unfurling instant of infallibly luminescent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of immaculately godly melody; every unfurling
instant of amiably melanging existence,
Because. And Only Because. A Mother is; has and shall for times immemorial
remain the Greatest Sculptor of every organism on this astoundingly
multiplying Universe; A Mother is the Greatest Artist….
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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She Is Mother Nature Keeper of Our Lives!
She stands upon the shores of time
Contemplating the rhythm of time
She bends slowly like a graceful swan
To dip her hands into the cool essence of life
She watches the ripples as they flicker through the water
Cascading into seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years
Generating the life of a child she watches
As it grows from baby to toddler to young child
Then onto turbulent years of teenager and young adult
The ripples cascading through the years
As the child becomes a man/woman
She gasps at how the flow of life shifts into the ripples of time
She watches as the ripples decide what fate beholds them next
She smiles at souls as it changes their hues of colours to blend with life
She is the essence that all there is
She is a beauty within
She is Mother Nature the keeper of our Lives
poem by Kaila George
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I Wished Upon My Life Today
I wished upon my life today
I wean upon my life today
I bet upon my life today
I borrowed upon my life today
I feasted upon my life today
I fell upon my life today
I paid upon my life today
I plead upon my life today
I frowned upon my life today
I flew upon my life today
I smoked upon my life today
I shitted upon my life today
I pissed upon my life today
I pass upon my life today
I sneezed upon my life today
I sneaked upon my life today
I asked upon my life today
I ate upon my life today
I wept upon my life today
I won upon my life today.
I prayed upon my life today.
poem by David E. Patton
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Adopted Children
Adopted children of the world! !
Through many years and the act of negligence;
Bit, how can i locate my child today?
Now that i am rich;
For, i did not care for him or her and,
He or she was taken away from me! ! ! ! ! ! !
All in the name of poverty;
But now, i am very rich!
And, i want to take care of my own child.
Once again,
Oh yes! ! ! !
For, i am very sorry for not taking care of my own child;
And this has been the matter at hand since all these years!
However, the rich takes advantage of the poor! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
But now, i want to see my own child and take care of him or her.
I don't care how long it has taken! !
For, he or she is my own child;
And, i gave birth to him or her,
But, the society took them away!
However, i am now fighting back today to get them beside me.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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a Child
God gives a child
for a while as a gift to you
to keep in your arms.
It may be for eighty years
or maybe time is measured out
much shorter,
but a time will come that he or she
will go back to the dust
from where new life comes.
The life of the child
will put sparkle in every day
and to see love in the eyes of that child,
will make your life unforgettable
and you will feel as if you are touching immortality
if you raise that child in His ways.
poem by Gert Strydom
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School Crossing Guard
never in my life could i foresee
that a school crossing guard
would be a life for me.
but looking into my grandchild's eyes
i knew it was a must
for in me he put his trust.
then i heard of a child who died today
' oh so young' to be taken away.
the parents and family in total grief
with no signs of any relief.
the child had gone out to play
and the ball just slipped away.
without looking she ran to the street.
the driver saw the ball and then the feet.
tried to swerve from the child
but was traveling at forty miles.
the child never got to see the car
or hear the screeching of the tires.
for death has no sound
it just comes and takes you down.
that was when i knew
that a scg was what i must do.
now i like so many others
stand on a street corner
helping to keep the law and order.
poem by Louis Rams
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Have I said enough?
Nothing more to reflect and nothing more to say,
Enough and no more; did I cover it all completely?
Days may roll over into months, and months into years,
Impervious yet, never the need to say anything more on this...
Alas! Everything doesn’t happen at once; else, what could Time mean to any one,
An instalment in reality is what we get through in each instance of Time and no more,
As of today, what I know is what I assume; and that undoubtedly will mature some more tomorrow,
Today, I had hoped to have said enough to seal my lips forever; but will my retirement stick through?
poem by Ram Josyula
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Today; Tomorrow
Today
It’s been five years since I have heard your voice.
Today
It’s been five years since I have heard your laugh.
Today
It’s been five years since I have seen your smile.
Today
Is the saddest day for me.
Today
I still remember like it was yesterday.
Today
I feel numb just like how I felt five years ago.
Today
I can still remember how I ran and didn’t want to stop.
Today
I still feel the emptiness of knowing I won’t ever see you again.
Today
I try and smile for you knowing that you are watching over me.
Today
I let my tears roll down slowly down my cheeks.
Today
I remember how you were so happy to be home.
Today
I still know that you didn’t have to suffer no more.
Today
I still try hard not to blame myself why you left my world.
Today
I sit here and remember the memories I have of you.
But tomorrow
I will still smile for you.
poem by Kimberly Santistevan
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Affirmations(2002-2004)
Today, I will get up before my alarm
Today, I won't close my eyes until dusk
Today, I will not get a speeding ticket
Today, I will count this day as a first
Today, I will enjoy the life that has been left to me
Today, I won't frown over the may-have-beens
Today, I won't cry over the should-have-beens
Today, I won't wonder about the could-have-beens
Today, I'll smile.......Today, I'll Laugh.... Today, I'll relax
Today, I won't feel alone because I don't see you
Today, I'll find something new that wasn't true of you
Today, I won't be afraid to look upon a new face
Today, I'll step up and take my place
Today, I won't think about what I've lost
Today, I'll look forward instead of behind
Today, I'll find some piece of mind
Today, I'll hope.... Today, I'll pray... Today, I'll believe
Today, I'll dream as if I always did
Today, I'll wish on a star the way I used to
Today, I'll reach for the heavens and sigh
Today, My heart will start to heal
Today, the biggest miracle is ME.
Today, Yesterday's problems ceased to be
Today, the rain has stopped and the sun has returned
Today, the breath of kindness is found in words
Today, I wonder.... Today, I am a child.
poem by Lillian B. Rose
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