By Dorothy Vanatter, my Mom (Poem written in 1954 about me, their new son)
He coos and he talks.
He laughs and he grins.
He’s loved from his sox
To both of his chins.
His baby blue eyes –
How they twinkle and glow.
And, oh, when he sighs,
Such contentment they show.
He brings us such love
As none else can do.
From heaven above
He was sent us, it’s true.
He smiles so to say
That he loves everyone.
That’s our baby boy.
That’s our baby son.
With a little chubby hand
And his tiny baby feet
He’ll play in the sand
With the kids ‘cross the street.
What he’ll need is a pup
To tag at his heels,
And as he grows up,
Share the love that he feels.
He’ll grow up like Dad –
Be big and be strong.
He’ll know what is bad,
He’ll know right from wrong.
We’ll teach him in love
The best that we can.
And too soon he’ll grow up
And he’ll be a man.
And when he is grown
In the life that before him,
He’ll surely have known
How much we adore him.
~
MY COMMENT: This poem by my angel Mother offers beautiful insight into who my parents were -- and why I became who I became. It reveals why I led such a charmed childhood: I was loved! (The three of us kids were so loved!) Is it any wonder I was/am so blessed?
He coos and he talks.He laughs and he grins.
He’s loved from his sox
To both of his chins.
His baby blue eyes –
How they twinkle and glow.
And, oh, when he sighs,
Such contentment they show.
He brings us such love
As none else can do.
From heaven above
He was sent us, it’s true.
He smiles so to say
That he loves everyone.
That’s our baby boy.
That’s our baby son.
With a little chubby hand
And his tiny baby feet
He’ll play in the sand
With the kids ‘cross the street.
What he’ll need is a pup
To tag at his heels,
And as he grows up,
Share the love that he feels.
He’ll grow up like Dad –
Be big and be strong.
He’ll know what is bad,
He’ll know right from wrong.
We’ll teach him in love
The best that we can.
And too soon he’ll grow up
And he’ll be a man.
And when he is grown
In the life that before him,
He’ll surely have known
How much we adore him.
~
MY COMMENT: This poem by my angel Mother offers beautiful insight into who my parents were -- and why I became who I became. It reveals why I led such a charmed childhood: I was loved! (The three of us kids were so loved!) Is it any wonder I was/am so blessed?
Comments
Half of the deal of poetry is wanting to take the time to want to TRY to write. Believe me, I don't publish all my efforts. And most those I publish are okay, with one or two of them being really good. (If I don't mind saying so myself. 1 out of 10 published poems ain't bad.)
(PLUS, I love Haikus! Go for it. AND, your prose writing on your blog IS, essentially, poetry in and of itself. I love the insights and the slices of life you share with us. Many thanks!)