Chaser of Joy
A child glares with eager eyes
At his present beneath the tree
Though, waiting till his parents rise
To tear it’s wrappings off to see
Mother, father, ascend slowly
(Taking their time as parents do)
Chatting softly over coffee
The child fidgets, hot, enthused
His parents give a word to go
The paper meets ten frenzied nails
Hastily ripping it’s tied bow
Leaving nothing but blue entrails
A guitar rests upon his lap
Six slender strings, true craftsmanship
He quickly darts upstairs so that
He could begin to master it
Time passed, the boy lost interest
He was filled with dreams of stardom
Yet wasn’t willing to progress
Due to practices sheer boredom.
That guitar sleeps somewhere in dust
As the boy moves from thing to thing
Open minds are quick to pick up
What they deem as interesting
But when something new comes around
They’re just as quick to put it down
poem by Lazarus Knix
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Related quotes
Who Must Take Care of Old-aged Parents?
Which child will care for parents when old-aged?
Which child will show compassion and respect?
Which child will find the time to talk kind words?
Which child reciprocates their affection?
Gone are the days of joint family system!
Gone is the sense of values in people!
Gone are the times when blood was quite thicker!
Gone with the wind is honouring parents!
Have parents not showered love on children?
Have they not slogged to give them life's comforts?
Have they not nursed them whenev'r they fell ill?
Have they not done their duties to their kids?
The world today is selfish to the core;
Children just want the wealth of parents old;
None volunteer to tend to old parents;
Children show scarce love to their parents dear!
What has then come upon children today?
Who should take care of parents, elderly?
Should not one's children take care of parents?
Much love seems lost in families these days!
poem by John Celes
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Lonely Child
Lonely child in the night.
Under heaven's golden lights.
I heard you cry near a stream.
Where maidens sing and sleep and dream.
Lonely child have no fear, the lord will dry your heart-
sick tears.
The night is young, a blue jay flies and whispers softly
please don't cry.
The lord above is free to roam he will help you from his
throne.
The lord loves you true and dear.
He only laughs he never swears.
Lonely child please don't run, beneath the sky, moon or sun.
You parents love you yes they do.
The clouds have dimmed, but no one knew.
Lonely child a lion prowls.
This lion is special he'd dare not bite.
He only hunts game in the wild never children o' lonely child.
Lonely child go back home, cross the deserts
where buffalo roamed.
The lord will lead you safe and clear.
So don't you cry nor shed a tear.
You parents miss your loving touch.
Your loving hugs and summer blush.
They miss the way you'd smile and grin.
You think they wouldn't you're only ten?
Lonely child in the night.
Your parents searched day and night.
For a child in the wild.
Their only son you lonely child.
Lonely child don't you cry.
And don't you dare tell a lie, on the lion in the wild.
He'd never hurt you lonely child.
Your parents love you very much.
So let them feel your loving touch.
Lonely child in the night.
A little dove flew, in fright.
I know you love your parents so.
So run and tell them let them know.
Let them know how you feel.
Let them know your love is real.
Lonely child run or fly.
Soar the heavens and the skies.
Soar the rivers and the streams.
Your smile will make the moonlight, beam.
poem by Shaan Sidhu
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Lonely Child
Lonely child in the night.
Under heaven's golden lights.
I heard you cry near a stream.
Where maidens sing and sleep and dream.
Lonely child have no fear, the lord will dry your heart-
sick tears.
The night is young, a blue jay flies and whispers softly
please don't cry.
The lord above is free to roam he will help you from his
throne.
The lord loves you true and dear.
He only laughs he never swears.
Lonely child please don't run, beneath the sky, moon or sun.
You parents love you yes they do.
The clouds have dimmed, but no one knew.
Lonely child a lion prowls.
This lion is special he'd dare not bite.
He only hunts game in the wild never children o' lonely child.
Lonely child go back home, cross the deserts
where buffalo roamed.
The lord will lead you safe and clear.
So don't you cry nor shed a tear.
You parents miss your loving touch.
Your loving hugs and summer blush.
They miss the way you'd smile and grin.
You think they wouldn't you're only ten?
Lonely child in the night.
Your parents searched day and night.
For a child in the wild.
Their only son you lonely child.
Lonely child don't you cry.
And don't you dare tell a lie, on the lion in the wild.
He'd never hurt you lonely child.
Your parents love you very much.
So let them feel your loving touch.
Lonely child in the night.
A little dove flew, in fright.
I know you love your parents so.
So run and tell them let them know.
Let them know how you feel.
Let them know your love is real.
Lonely child run or fly.
Soar the heavens and the skies.
Soar the rivers and the streams.
Your smile will make the moonlight, beam.
Lonely child in the night, an angel, there's no need for fright.
poem by Shawn Henley
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I Am Grateful For The Parents I Had And Have
I AM GRATEFUL FOR THE PARENTS I HAD AND HAVE
I am grateful for the parents I had and have
They are still with me
I miss them
Sometimes they appear in my dreams
When I am walking I think of them
I see them at various ages of their lives
My father young tall strong
My mother smiling kind warm in strong middle age
My father bent on his way to the senior citizens
My mother in a wheelchair no longer even half herself
Or in the faded pictures of them in their youth
As I never saw them in life
I think of them and miss them
Their dreams their loves are in me
Yesterday I was with a great – grandchild of theirs
Who they never have seen or will see
How happy that smiling calm child would have made them
Life is difficult and long and filled with loss and blessing
How I will love and miss my parents always
How they still live in me
And hopefully in what comes after me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Home is the first school and mother is the first teacher
Home is the first school and mother is the first teacher
Parents are the builder of children’s characters and minds,
The mother won’t be a fighter but should be a well preacher,
If she is an illiterate she must carry her children to tuition,
Howsoever the mother should educate their children first,
And she should send her children to school daily and regularly,
Teachers are not blamed not to fulfil children’s educational thirst,
Both the parents and teachers should make them the best citizens,
As we can’t work with one hand likewise we can’t walk with one leg,
Hence, parents and teachers are the same faces of the same coin,
If parents and teachers do them careless they suffer in life to beg,
Do well and have well it is said to see your own profit in life or ruin,
That is why parents and teachers are the best artists of the child,
If an art is spoilt the statue of the child looks like an ugly and a wild.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
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A Parents Pain
Have you thought about the pain that a parent goes through
When they find out that their child has been kidnapped and abused.
(this is just a story)
She was coming home from school that day
When her life was taken away.
A child predator on the prowl
Waiting to take someone down.
She lived only a block away
When she became the predators prey.
He grabbed her so fast -she could not scream
And since that day she hadn’t been seen.
The search began block to block
The publics outrage would not stop.
They found her body in an alleyway
By some children who went out to play.
The parents screams filled the air
As their eyes began to tear.
The hatred of what this man had done
Filled the hearts of everyone.
As their daughter was put in the ground
This child predator the police had found.
But there is nothing that could take away the pain
For their lives would forever change.
The photographs and memories of when she was growing.
These are the things that this man had stolen.
No more pictures that they could take
For it was now, much too late.
The pains of the parents have got to be heard
And it’s time to spread the word.
poem by Louis Rams
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Who Will Cry?
Who will cry for the little child who goes for days without food?
Who will cry for the little child who parents beat them?
Who will cry for the little child who is mistreated for being different?
Who will cry for the little child who goes unloved?
Who will cry for the little child whose stomach is swelled up?
Who will cry for the little child who doesn't have clothes to wear?
Who will cry for the little child who is shunned for not being popular?
Who will cry for the little child who is molested every night?
Who will cry for the little child who's parents are not around?
Who will cry for the little child who has to take care of his self?
Who will cry?
Will you cry?
Cause I have.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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Give This Child What She Needs
Give this child what she needs
Love
Give this child what she needs
Shelter
Give this child what she needs
Prayers
Give this child what she needs
Some food and water
Give this child what she needs
Good parents
Give this child what she needs
Good manors
Give this child what she needs
A smoke free home
Give this child what she needs
Peace and happiness
Give this child what she needs
To know God
Give this child what she needs
Your guidance
Give this child what she needs
Clothes
Give this child what she needs
Your support
Give this child what she needs
Some family time
Give this child what she needs
A nice bath every day
Give this child what she needs
Some discipline
Give this child what she needs
A warm bed to sleep on
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Pro-life…
I thank my mother,
Who brought me forth
Into the world,
God made, so bold.
And my dear father,
For doing his worth,
To raise me up,
With love-filled cup.
I admire them
For such strong faith,
And duty-minds -
Both rare are finds.
I was their child eighth,
Of ten children!
God blessed them well;
Their work was swell.
But had they stopped with
Just one or two,
Like how some did:
Oh, God forbid!
What lovely parents
They turned to be,
And lived all life,
Despite much strife
If not for them both
What would I be?
-An abortus
Or dead fetus!
The love of Maker,
Good parents give
To children all,
When they are small
Such children bring them
Blessings from God,
And intense mirth,
Right here on earth.
I thank you parents;
I thank you God,
For gift of birth,
And lovely earth.
Just think of parents
Who do abort,
Against God’s will,
By their weak will.
Their life will be filled
With emptiness;
Their guilt and sins
Makes life non-sense.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-28-2008
poem by John Celes
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A Missed Childhood
I missed out on having a childhood
went from a little girl to womanhood.
I think the way my parents raised their children
was only the best of what they're parents could.
I always felt like their Cinderella
always cleaning, ironing and straightening up it seemed.
Taking care of my little sisters and brother
never spending time to be just that child which I need.
I always felt that I had missed out on something
and searched for that missing link throughout my life.
Been married too many times to speak of
been a mother to two sons and a loving wife.
I always promised myself not to repeat
what and how I had been raised.
But to give my sons all of my love
with Respect and Love and Praise.
To allow them to be a child
the best child that they could be.
And always keep myself in check
remembering that missing part of that child in me.
poem by Linda Winchell
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Can You Smell The Rain…This Is A True Story
A child was premature
Only after 24 weeks her mother gave birth
She was only 12 inches long
When she came into this world
Her mother and father
Were waiting for news
And as always
Doctors filled them with gloom
She will not live for very long
And if she does complications
Will unfold
She will be blind
She will be deaf
She will be retarded
She has not fully developed yet
Tears abashed as she cried in pain
Both parents distraught
At their tiny daughters plight
They said their prayers
They had their faith
The asked the lord
To watch over her
She survived 2 months
She was breathing still
They were fianaly able to hold her
Small tiny body in their arms
But still the Doctors said
She would not live long
And each time her parents
Would cry once more
This can't be true
She's breathing still
They said their prayers
They had their faith
The asked the lord
To watch over her
Two more months
Had passed on by
And still she breathed
And still she was alive
But alas the Doctors did say
She will not survive
Another day
Distraught once again
Her parents were sad
And once again they
Bowed their heads
They said their prayers
They had their faith
The asked the lord
To watch over her
Now five years on
She runs and plays
And does everything
A little girl does
And then one day
While out on a trip
With her loved ones
Her family and friends
She was chatting to mom
About things from the day
Of playing with friends
And her family
When suddenly she paused
And said out loud
Can you smell that?
Her mother concerned
Looked up to the sky
It was just about
To rain outside
She nodded to her
And said with a smile
Why yes little one
I can smell the rain
But shaking her head
She said no not that
Can't you smell that?
Puzzled she smiled
As she shook her head
Why yes my dear child
It's about to rain
Her daughter just smiled
And shook her head
Then patted her shoulders
And said out loud
It smells like him! ! !
Then her mother just wept
As her father smiled
And realized she was
Talking about God
The rain had stopped
The sun came out
She yelled with glee
I want to go play
She hugged her mom
Smiled at her dad
Its ok mom
It was just only God
Then ran off to play
poem by Kaila George
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When A Child Is Lost
When a child is lost,
lost to unknown circumstances,
lost to suspicion of persons
with evil intentions,
then to the eyes of the parents
the lights of sun, moon and stars
have ceased to shine,
the blooming flowers in October
lose their fragrance,
and food doesn't taste
in the tongue.
When a child is lost,
then parents who plea
for their child's return
move us to tears
because children are not
goods to be stolen
but priceless treasure
to be cared for.
When the child is lost,
we share the universal pain
of losing our beloved.
Let us pray that the human goodness
in the heart of the person
who stole the child prevail
and that the lost child
be found.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Parenthood - a challenge
By taking birth of a child, miracle occurs.
Man becomes father and woman mother.
Husband and wife transformed to parents.
Birthing gives a unique pain and pleasure.
Selfless love and devotion for infant is natural,
Great love of mother is witnessed even in animals.
Most animals take care and protect their little ones.
Human as parents have got some more obligations.
To feed them, help them, love them and train,
Tell about their duties and what are the refrains.
Parents have clay in hands to carve a human.
They are the Lord's agent to thrive his children.
God blessed child, parents have to bless his life,
Make them the facts of the universe, to realise.
Put in diligence, judgement, religious and obedience,
Make to posses their heart love, faith and reverence.
Being parent is little stressful but has a great joy.
In the course of doing God's duty enjoying Lord's toy.
(C) S D Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Upon The Disobedient Child
Children become, while little, our delights!
When they grow bigger, they begin to fright's.
Their sinful nature prompts them to rebel,
And to delight in paths that lead to hell.
Their parents' love and care they overlook,
As if relation had them quite forsook.
They take the counsels of the wanton's, rather
Than the most grave instructions of a father.
They reckon parents ought to do for them,
Though they the fifth commandment do contemn;
They snap and snarl if parents them control,
Though but in things most hurtful to the soul.
They reckon they are masters, and that we
Who parents are, should to them subject be!
If parents fain would have a hand in choosing,
The children have a heart will in refusing.
They'll by wrong doings, under parents gather,
And say it is no sin to rob a father.
They'll jostle parents out of place and power,
They'll make themselves the head, and them devour.
How many children, by becoming head,
Have brought their parents to a piece of bread!
Thus they who, at the first, were parents joy,
Turn that to bitterness, themselves destroy.
But, wretched child, how canst thou thus requite
Thy aged parents, for that great delight
They took in thee, when thou, as helpless, lay
In their indulgent bosoms day by day?
Thy mother, long before she brought thee forth,
Took care thou shouldst want neither food nor cloth.
Thy father glad was at his very heart,
Had he to thee a portion to impart.
Comfort they promised themselves in thee,
But thou, it seems, to them a grief wilt be.
How oft, how willingly brake they their sleep,
If thou, their bantling, didst but winch or weep.
Their love to thee was such they could have giv'n,
That thou mightst live, almost their part of heav'n.
But now, behold how they rewarded are!
For their indulgent love and tender care;
All is forgot, this love he doth despise.
They brought this bird up to pick out their eyes.
poem by John Bunyan
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Parents Vs Children
Things that i don't understand in this world is that why do some people
get into relationship, getting married, enjoying life and making love.
But when it comes to children or when they already have kids, they
could not accept their responsibilities as parents. They do have
regrets of having kids especially if the kids are naughty, giving problem
or giving them headaches. They always beating, shouting, saying bad words to the kids saying wish you never exist, wish you never been born.
Instead of being calm, giving advice, doing good things which would make their children happy and be proud to have good parents.
Instead of thinking good ideas which would make them close to each other
.
Child is a child, they need more time with their parents. They need
attention, care, and love. Children are curious to everything, they need
to know antyhing as part of growing up. They need the guidance of
parents, but what I see nowadays is different. Parents just give material things to show their love for their kids.
Some parents just go out to parties, shopping, prefer to hang out with their friends rather than their kids. Then they just leave the children
to the nannies/babysitter.
Parents make their children be far from them instead children to get
close to the nannies who always there for them and give the love to the children. Parents must be a role model for the children, but what i see
now is that children do as what their parents do, they become more liberated.
There are also some parents who give up for their children. Some choose their own happiness, they don't like to stay at home with their kids. especially if thier husband dont have time for them too. the tendency, both couple would have a problem that result to divorce.
Where is the love that they shared? where is the promises and vows they had?
poem by Judith Kempis
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Conflicting Idealism!
When mother had put on the dress to me,
She told me not to let anyone to remove that,
When I became slightly older, she gave me,
The long skirts and blouses to wear,
Then the sarees of various materials, color and designs,
Filled my closets, I used to run around,
When I was young and then I was advised,
To walk slowly without making any noise,
Though the anklets, the parents had worn,
Around my ankles always made the ringing tone,
For them to know where I was,
From wherever they were,
Mother advised me to sleep on the side,
And for my every sneeze she arrived with pride,
To cover my exposed joined feet and to correct,
A few strand on the face and smiled,
A well educated man whom my parents and relatives loved,
tied the three knots to make me his wife.
This is the guy, who asks me to do,
What my parents prevented me to do.
This is the guy that my parents respect the most,
And advise me to listen and obey whatever he says.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Teen Birth (narrated)
She took the test and found out for sure
So she went to her mother and said:
I have a problem and I don’t know what to do
You had always said that I could confide in you
I made a mistake: and now my stomach is full.
The boy says he’s too young to raise a family
Then he turned his back, and walked away from me.
Well my daughter! There are two options that I see
You give birth and raise it, or give it to a childless family.
Now if you decide to keep it, because of your
Christian upbringing.
Your father and I will help you in all that we can
But you have to put your part, and give a helping hand.
And if you put it up for adoption which will
Be the hardest thing to do.
But whatever your decision we will support you.
Her parents then told her: let the doctors put you to sleep
For if you see the child you will begin to weep.
And if you must stay awake, then close
Your eyes so you don’t see, for a newborn child
Has a hypnotic glance, so turn your back it’s your only chance.
When it was time for her to conceive and she was wheeled
Into the room- her mothers words rang like a bell.
What do you decide and who do you tell?
And when she saw this child come out of her womb
She then felt that it was much too soon.
She turned her eyes away, but recalled that dreadful day
When the boy turned his back. And right then she knew
Exactly what she had to do.
She took the baby in her arms, and looked into its eyes.
The hypnotic glance was there
And with this child- her life she’d share.
poem by Louis Rams
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An Ode to the Glory of Motherhood
The beginning of a newly found life
A radiantly, beautiful soon-to-be mother
A face that radiates beauty, grace, and glows
Now turned to the pains of labor
Breathing, screaming, and pushing out the baby child
A child that she loves
The father cries in jubilation
She stays at home as a housewife
With the bright-eyed Christopher
They have so many laughs together as he grows
Especially when she tucks him into bed and puts him under his cover
Christopher grows up to be a bit wild
Soon reaching for what he deserves
Making his parents look at him in fascination
Christopher has never caused his parents any strife
Even though he always touched his mother with his sticky fingers
Even now, he still wonders about rainbows
He has fallen in love with the girl that is next-door neighbor
His girlfriend is an exquisite Fairchild
His parents and girlfriend support all of his choices
A tear falls from his mother’s eye as he walks across the stage for his graduation
(4/24/07)
poem by Stacey Gibbs
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What Children Want Their Parents to do …?
Allow me to be born, mother –
Into the world, God made;
And let me glorify my Lord
In life, before I fade!
Allow me to grow well, father,
Into a healthy child;
And let me do great feats on earth,
Unlike a flow’r in wild!
Give me some special love, mother,
And nurture me with care;
Do spend enough time with your child –
‘I am your earthen-ware! ’
Protect me father, while I’m young,
Support my life’s bare needs;
I do not want to be orphaned,
Or taught to do misdeeds!
Take care of all my wants, parents,
Climb me up life’s ladder;
The modern world gives bleak chances;
Keep me always gladder!
Help me to walk and run and play;
Help me to stand erect;
Help me to talk and read all day;
Help me to be perfect.
Do hug me, kiss me, embrace me;
Don’t cane me unfairly;
Bathe me, dress me and keep me clean;
Let me do things freely!
Oh, do not neglect me parents;
I need you by my side;
Until I’m old enough to stand
Alone, and in God abide!
Help me to realize my God,
In everything I do;
Oh, let me serve my Maker well,
Through fellowmen, and you.
Help me to show my love for you:
I am your flesh and bones;
Bless me that I may tend to you
When old, in moans and groans!
Look after me like your parents
Bestowed on you, their love;
This is the duty, God expects
All parents to do, prove!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-16-2008
poem by John Celes
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I Am... (The Rage Of Love)
i am the gun,
in the hands of the thinker,
the last road, the last chance,
the last prayer, the last door.
i am the sickness,
that greed inflicted,
that apathy wont touch,
that stinks at the table.
i am the parents,
burying their child,
i am the stranger,
burying the parents.
i am the poor,
denied the word freedom.
i am skin of color,
covered by tasteless white skin.
i am the rope,
hanging from the rafters.
and the holy book
that tied the noose.
i am the drug of charity
that denies involvement.
i am the token gesture
made by hands that never open.
i am the dollar and the dime,
and the vast wasteland between.
i am the sound of books burning,
and the crackle of flesh.
i am the cry for justice,
lost to the din of noise.
i am the noise of ignorance,
that shouts defiantly at stillness.
i am the face of the small child,
whose parents just died.
i am the rage of love,
too long denied!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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