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Babies are bundles of joy, with their little hands and feet and their sweet innocent smiles.
They bring happiness and love into our lives and fill our hearts with warmth.
Baby poems are a beautiful way to cherish babies, to celebrate their existence, and to capture the essence of their innocence and beauty.
In this collection of poems, we explore the wonder and beauty of babies through the eyes of various poets.
From the playful giggles of a newborn to the tender moments shared between a parent and child, these poems on baby offer a glimpse into the joy and magic that babies bring to our lives.
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Funny Baby Poems
Babies are a bundle of joy, but they can also be the source of some hilarious moments. These interesting poems about baby capture the joy, chaos, and humor that comes with raising a little one.
1. Toddler Tea
by Caren Krutsinger
I thought I’d invite toddlers for tea,
so my own would stay out of my hair.
They would sit and sip so daintily,
Follow rules, and play games so fair.
Smile ever sweet, use the word please
Say thank you, ma’am, and stay on their chairs.
Be careful with my fine china, says me.
They laugh, they snort, and they wiggle like hares.
They dive off the couch, with giggles of glee.
They land heaped together, gulping in air.
Chairs in a pile at the bottom of the stairs,
Everything in sight has been licked by Lee,
Chairs in a heap at the bottom of stairs,
Strange things are happening, how can this be?
I think I have been invaded by bears!
2. Poor Wee Man
by Jan Allison
My unfortunate uncle named Rick
Was endowed with a very small wick
But he was still quite able
To impregnate aunt Mable
Who gave birth to a son they called Dick
3. Affected Art Baby Sitter
by James Edward Lee Sr.
Flickered fingers;
Can’t dial ringers;
Telephone calls;
Babies cry and crawls;
what do you do?
what do you do?
When their diapers fall?…
4. My little Chocolate Mess
by Darlene Gifford
Bathwater and bubbles are waiting,
but my child is nowhere near.
Yet, I can see from cookie crumbs,
he’s crawled from here to there.
Oh, yes! he’s been in the kitchen.
I see his crooked crumb trail,
which leads to our white kitten,
with a chocolate, sticky tail!
In every room I search
for my little chocolate mess.
Then, I find him in my bedroom,
with his hands on my new dress!
5. ABC
by Paula Goldsmith
Apple Appetite
ample appealing
Adam an American
artificial air
Butter best baby
beautiful blue butterflies
buying buckwheat bread
Crackers cherry crust
cinnamon cheese cereal
crispy crunchy crumbs
6. She was Born with Cat Ears
by Caren Krutsinger
She was born with cat ears.
So cute! Everyone lied.
Some of us felt them.
They were striped, and furry.
Odd for a human head.
Gray, pink in the middle.
“Adorable!” some of us said.
“Can they be removed?” the new grandmother asked.
Making her daughter-in-law her enemy for life.
7. Dear Michelle
by Anthony Scandrick
You almost had me,
I wanted you,
The way you stuck to me like super glue,
I was feeling you,
But I knew,
I could never have you,
But, the way you looked at me,
The way my body pleads,
We can never be,
Because I’m too old,
And your only thirteen.
8. Raccoon’s Baby Sittin’ Service
by Barbara Gorelick
Mrs. Cat, I’m bringing back your kitten
I’m completely done with baby sittin’
She cried all day
Not worth the pay
And, so sorry, we couldn’t find her mitten
For the “Tell Me About It ” contest
9. My Baby Dreams
by Nitesh Aggarwal
There once was a dream in my sleep
I was out in the fields with my sheep
I wanted to pee
Let it out with glee
I woke up with in a puddle in my keep.
Famous Baby Poems
Some of the greatest poets in history have written about the miracle of new life. These famous poems about baby are timeless expressions of the wonder and beauty of babies.
1. The Storm-Child
by May Byron
My child came to me with the equinox,
The wild wind blew him to my swinging door,
With flakes of tawny foam from off the shore,
And shivering spindrift whirled across the rocks.
Flung down the sky, the wheeling swallow-flocks
Cried him a greeting, and the lordly woods,
Waving lean arms of welcome one by one,
Cast down their russet cloaks and golden hoods,
And bid their dancing leaflets trip and run
Before the tender feet of this my son.
Therefore the sea’s swift fire is in his veins,
And in his heart the glory of the sea;
Therefore the storm-wind shall his comrade be,
That strips the hills and sweeps the cowering plains.
October, shot with flashing rays and rains,
Inhabits all his pulses; he shall know
The stress and splendor of the roaring gales,
The creaking boughs shall croon him fairy tales,
And the sea’s kisses set his blood aglow,
While in his ears the eternal bugles blow.
2. A Cradle Song
by William Blake
Sweet dreams form a shade
O’er my lovely infant’s head;
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams
By happy, silent, moony beams.
Sweet sleep with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown.
Sweet sleep, Angel mild,
Hover o’er my happy child.
Sweet smiles in the night
Hover over my delight;
Sweet smiles, Mother’s smiles,
All the livelong night beguiles.
Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thy eyes.
Sweet moans, sweeter smiles,
All the dovelike moans beguiles.
Sleep sleep, happy child,
All creation slept and smil’d;
Sleep sleep, happy sleep,
While o’er thee thy mother weep.
Sweet babe, in thy face
Holy image I can trace.
Sweet babe, once like thee,
Thy maker lay and wept for me,
Wept for me for thee for all,
When he was an infant small.
Thou his image ever see.
Heavenly face that smiles on thee,
Smiles on thee on me on all,
Who became an infant small,
Infant smiles are His own smiles,
Heaven & earth to peace beguiles.
3. All on Account of the Baby
by Amos Russel Wells
An ache in the back and an ache in the arms,
All on account of the baby.
A fear and a fright and a thousand alarms,
All on account of the baby.
And bottles and rattles and whistles and rings,
From cellar to attic a clutter of things,
From morning to night and to morning again
More fuss and more fume than an army of men.
And a head that is stupid for lack of its sleep,
And a heart where a flood of anxieties leap—
All on account of the baby.
A joy in the heart and a light in the eyes,
All on account of the baby.
A growing content and a growing surprise
All on account of the baby.
And patience that conquers a myriad frets,
And a sunshiny song that another begets,
And pureness of soul as a baby is pure,
And sureness of faith as the children are sure,
And a glory of love between husband and wife,
And a saner and happier outlook on life,
All on account of the baby.
4. Etude Realiste
by Algernon Charles Swinburne
I
A baby’s feet, like seashells pink,
Might tempt, should heaven see meet,
An angel’s lips to kiss, we think,
A baby’s feet.
Like rose-hued sea-flowers toward the heat
They stretch and spread and wink
Their ten soft buds that part and meet.
No flower-bells that expand and shrink
Gleam half so heavenly sweet,
As shine on life’s untrodden brink
A baby’s feet.
II
A baby’s hands, like rosebuds furled,
Where yet no leaf expands,
Ope if you touch, though close upcurled,—
A baby’s hands.
Then, even as warriors grip their brands
When battle’s bolt is hurled,
They close, clenched hard like tightening bands.
No rosebuds yet by dawn impearled
Match, even in loveliest lands,
The sweetest flowers in all the world,—
A baby’s hands.
III
A baby’s eyes, ere speech begin,
Ere lips learn words or sighs,
Bless all things bright enough to win
A baby’s eyes.
Love, while the sweet thing laughs and lies,
And sleep flows out and in,
Sees perfect in them Paradise!
Their glance might cast out pain and sin,
Their speech make dumb the wise,
By mute glad godhead felt within
A baby’s eyes.
5. The Babie
by Elizabeth Akers
Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes,
Nae stockin’ on her feet;
Her supple ankles white as snaw,
Or early blossoms sweet.
Her simple dress o’ sprinkled pink,
Her double, dimplit chin,
Her puckered lips, an’ baumy mou’,
With na ane tooth within.
Her een sae like her mither’s een,
Twa gentle, liquid things;
Her face is like an angel’s face,—
We’re glad she has nae wings.
She is the buddin’ of our luve,
A giftie God gied us:
We maun na luve the gift owre weel,
‘Twad be nae blessin’ thus.
We still maun luve the Giver mair,
An’ see Him in the given;
An’ sae she’ll lead us up to Him,
Our babie straight frae Heaven.
6. Just a Little Bit of Baby
by Amos Russel Wells
Just a little bit of baby,
Twenty pounds and nothing more.—
See him floor his giant daddy,
Weight two hundred, six feet four.
Just a little bit of baby;
Any beauty? not a trace,—
See him stealing all the roses
From his lovely mother’s face.
Just a little bit of baby;
Ignorant as he can be.—
See him puzzle all the sages
Of his learned family.
Just a little bit of baby;
Walking? no; nor crawling; even;—
See him lead a dozen grown-ups
To the very gate of heaven!
7. Baby-Land
by George Cooper
“Which is the way to Baby-land?”
“Any one can tell;
Up one flight,
To your right;
Please to ring the bell.”
“What can you see in Baby-land?”
“Little folks in white—
Downy heads,
Cradle-beds,
Faces pure and bright!”
“What do they do in Baby-land?”
“Dream and wake and play,
Laugh and crow,
Shout and grow;
Jolly times have they!”
“What do they say in Baby-land?”
“Why, the oddest things;
Might as well
Try to tell
What a birdie sings!”
“Who is the Queen of Baby-land?”
“Mother, kind and sweet;
And her love,
Born above,
Guides the little feet.”
8. Choosing a Name
by Mary Lamb
I have got a new-born sister:
I was nigh the first that kissed her.
When the nursing-woman brought her
To papa, his infant daughter,
How papa’s dear eyes did glisten!
She will shortly be to christen;
And papa has made the offer,
I shall have the naming of her.
Now I wonder what would please her,—
Charlotte, Julia, or Louisa?
Ann and Mary, they’re too common;
Joan’s too formal for a woman;
Jane’s a prettier name beside;
But we had a Jane that died.
They would say, if ’twas Rebecca,
That she was a little Quaker.
Edith’s pretty, but that looks
Better in old English books;
Ellen’s left off long ago;
Blanche is out of fashion now.
None that I have named as yet
Is so good as Margaret.
Emily is neat and fine;
What do you think of Caroline?
How I’m puzzled and perplexed
What to choose or think of next!
I am in a little fever
Lest the name that I should give her
Should disgrace her or defame her;—
I will leave papa to name her.
9. Smiles
by Jaya Russell
As you lay there in your crib,
Watching the mobile go around,
A smile comes upon your face,
And I couldn’t make a sound.
I start to remember the past two months,
From newborn to infant.
I love you so much.
We play airplane together,
Your face is so serious.
Before I sit you down you grin,
How unbelievable.
You’re growing so fast,
Just yesterday I could feel you move inside me.
Waiting nine months to see you,
And a lifetime to enjoy.
I love you with every ounce of my being
And couldn’t imagine life any other way.
You bring so much peace and love
To me each and every day.
Beautiful Baby Poems
There’s something about a newborn baby that inspires poets to put their thoughts and feelings into words. These beautiful poems about baby celebrate the wonder, innocence, and potential of every new life.
1. The Firstborn
by The Firstborn
So fair, so dear, so warm upon my bosom,
And in my hands the little rosy feet.
Sleep on, my little bird, my lamb, my blossom;
Sleep on, sleep on, my sweet.
What is it God hath given me to cherish,
This living, moving wonder which is mine—
Mine only? Leave it with me or I perish,
Dear Lord of love divine.
Dear Lord, ’tis wonderful beyond all wonder,
This tender miracle vouchsafed to me,
One with myself, yet just so far asunder
That I myself may see.
Flesh of my flesh, and yet so subtly linking
New selfs with old, all things that I have been
With present joys beyond my former thinking
And future things unseen.
There life began, and here it links with heaven,
The golden chain of years scarce dipped adown
From birth, ere once again a hold is given
And nearer to God’s Throne.
Seen, held in arms and clasped around so tightly,—
My love, my bird, I will not let thee go.
Yet soon the little rosy feet must lightly
Go pattering to and fro.
Mine, Lord, all mine Thy gift and loving token.
Mine—yes or no, unseen its soul divine?
Mine by the chain of love with links unbroken,
Dear Saviour, Thine and mine.
2. Only a Baby Small
Only a baby small,
Dropped from the skies,
Only a laughing face,
Two sunny eyes;
Only two cherry lips,
One chubby nose;
Only two little hands,
Ten little toes.
Only a golden head,
Curly and soft;
Only a tongue that wags
Loudly and oft;
Only a little brain,
Empty of thought;
Only a little heart,
Troubled with naught.
Only a tender flower
Sent us to rear;
Only a life to love
While we are here;
Only a baby small,
Never at rest;
Small, but how dear to us,
God knoweth best.
3. A Baby’s Hands
by Margaret E. Sangster
God made the rivers, the hills, and the seas,
God made the flowers, the grass, and the trees;
God made the clouds, and the waves, silver-crested,
Then God made the hands of a baby—and rested!
How did He make them? Well, nobody knows—
Some say He dreamed of the bud of a rose,
And that He woke as the dawn swept away
Night in the dancing pink promise of day.
Maybe He thought of the light of a star,
(That’s why He made them as soft as they are!)
Maybe He watched while a new butterfly,
Light as a sunbeam, went fluttering by.
Maybe He walked in a garden, dew-kissed,
That’s why He made them as frail as the mist—
Then as He leaned from His heaven above,
God made them strong as His greatest gift—LOVE!
God made the mountains—we wonder at these—
God made the splendor of sunsets and trees;
God made vast mines where a world’s wealth is piled,
Then God made the hands of a baby—and smiled!
4. Baby Understands
by Ed Blair
Out in the shade of the trees in the yard,
In its cool crib is the baby;
Cooing, then kicking its feet fast and hard,
Looking above is the baby.
Everything talks to the sweet baby there—
Old Mister Blue Jay and Robin so fair—
And they look down with a wondering air,
Chirping sweet notes to the baby.
Baby’s blue eyes soon discover them there,
For he is watching, is baby;
Two hands are moving, two feet in the air,
Cooing a welcome is baby.
He understands all the notes that they sing
Of their dear birdlings that nested this spring,
And what a pleasure their raising did bring.”
He understands, does the baby.
Then the wind tosses the branches around,
Just for his pleasure, knows baby,
And far above him a sky world he’s found,
Blue like the eyes of the baby.
Bending above these the sky takes a peep,
Wind whispers softly, “Thy mamma will keep
Baby from harm”—and he’s now fast asleep;
He understands, does the baby.
5. As I Watch You Sleep
by Wanda L. Gossett
I watched a little face sleeping,
Eyelashes fluttering so,
I wondered of the dream you were having,
and if Angels were playing there.
I watched a little face sleeping,
Your little mouth was smiling so,
I hope that you are as happy as me,
holding you in my arms.
I watched a little face sleeping,
making sure of the breath you take,
to watch you breathe and keep you safe,
is all that matters to me.
I watched a little face sleeping,
holding your small hand in mine,
five little fingers on each hand,
as one hangs onto mine.
I watched a little face sleeping,
and as I prayed to myself,
I thank God for letting me
watch a little face sleeping.
6. Our Wee White Rose
by Gerald Massey
All in our marriage garden
Grew, smiling up to God,
A bonnier flower than ever
Sucked the green warmth of the sod;
O, beautiful unfathomably
Its little life unfurled;
And crown of all things was our wee
White Rose of all the world.
From out a balmy bosom
Our bud of beauty grew;
It fed on smiles for sunshine,
On tears for daintier dew:
Aye nestling warm and tenderly,
Our leaves of love were curled
So close and close about our wee
White Rose of all the world.
With mystical faint fragrance
Our house of life she filled;
Revealed each hour some fairy tower
Where winged hopes might build!
We saw—though none like us might see—
Such precious promise pearled
Upon the petals of our wee
White Rose of all the world.
But evermore the halo
Of angel-light increased,
Like the mystery of moonlight
That folds some fairy feast.
Snow-white, snow-soft, snow-silently
Our darling bud uncurled,
And dropped in the grave—God’s lap—our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Our Rose was but in blossom,
Our life was but in spring,
When down the solemn midnight
We heard the spirits sing,
“Another bud of infancy
With holy dews impearled!”
And in their hands they bore our wee
White Rose of all the world.
You scarce could think so small a thing
Could leave a loss so large;
Her little light such shadow fling
From dawn to sunset’s marge.
In other springs our life may be
In bannered bloom unfurled,
But never, never match our wee
White Rose of all the world.
7. Love’s Tendril
by Georgia Douglas Johnson
Sweeter far than lyric rune
Is my baby’s cooing tune;
Brighter than the butterflies
Are the gleams within her eyes;
Firmer than an iron band
Serves the zephyr of her hand;
Deeper than the ocean’s roll
Sounds her heart-beat in my soul.
8. What A Miracle You Are
by Jundy Raga
What a miracle you are that comes to our life,
A bundle of joy to relieve worries and strife,
A breath of heaven’s blessing knocking on the door,
A whole new meaning of love to explore…
What a miracle you are, oh tiny heartbeats that sleep,
For even in the womb, our hearts you’ve learned to keep
And the breeze of bond that sways with you promises of joy
Of caring for a little angel and a lifetime to enjoy…
What a miracle you are, though you are not yet here,
The light that you shine wipes our every fear.
The bliss that comes with you fills our mind day by day,
With glorious wonders of thoughts of endless time to play…
Indeed you are a miracle, a spark of God’s endearing love
An answer to a prayer that long we’ve sent above
And as we wait to see your face, we dream of better future,
For it is you, our dear God’s grace, who are our greatest adventure.
9. Tiny Fingers and Tiny Toes
by Meliisa
We welcome to the world,
Your little baby boy,
Oh, isn’t he just
A bundle of joy.
See tiny fingers and tiny toes,
Bright baby eyes, a cute little nose.
Teddy bears, rattles,
Cute little socks.
Dummies, diapers,
And alphabet blocks.
See tiny fingers and tiny toes,
Bright baby eyes, a cute little nose.
In the years to come,
Your baby will grow,
He’ll soon be a young child,
And where the time went, we’ll never know.
See tiny fingers and tiny toes,
Bright baby eyes, a cute little nose.
10. Sweetest Moments
by Lucinda C. Bennett
If I could go back to a time for a while,
It would be to the moment I first saw you smile,
To the time when you tottered that first wobbly walk,
To the moment your babble turned into talk.
I would lie down and hold you after your bath,
I would tickle your toes and cherish your laugh.
The look in your eyes when you suddenly knew
The face in the mirror was sweet little you,
That giggle you gave with a look of alarm,
As you realized your hand was attached to your arm.
The times when you cried as you’d woken at night.
I held you and rocked you, then tucked you in tight,
The moments you showed you were caring and kind,
So proud and so strong your beautiful mind.
These moments were riches beyond all else.
You won over my soul, my all, myself.
You grow each day, and I watch with such joy,
My wonderful, kind, and sweet little boy.
Short Baby Poems
Sometimes a few simple words can say it all. These short poetries about baby are perfect for baby shower cards, birth announcements, or just a sweet message to a new parent.
1. Don’t Wake the Baby
by Anonymous
Baby sleeps, so we must tread
Softly round her little bed,
And be careful that our toys
Do not fall and make a noise.
We must not talk, but whisper low,
Mother wants to work, we know,
That, when father comes to tea,
All may neat and cheerful be.
2. Six Weeks Old
by Christopher Morley
He is so small, he does not know
The summer sun, the winter snow;
The spring that ebbs and comes again,
All this is far beyond his ken.
A little world he feels and sees:
His mother’s arms, his mother’s knees;
He hides his face against her breast,
And does not care to learn the rest.
3. Sweet Jelly Baby
by Bl Devnath
sweet jelly baby
never dances but allures
tongue dances while tastes
sometimes seen with cap
they are colorfully dressed
just needs few pennies
4. Baby’s Dimples
by Baby’s Dimples
Love goes playing hide-and-seek
‘Mid the roses on her cheek,
With a little imp of Laughter,
Who, the while he follows after,
Leaves the footprints that we trace
All about the Kissing-place.
5. The Baby
by Hugh Miller
No shoes to hide her tiny toes,
No stockings on her feet;
Her little ankles white as snow,
Or early blossoms sweet.
Her simple dress of sprinkled pink;
Her tiny, dimpled chin;
Her rosebud lips and bonny mouth
With not one tooth between.
Her eyes so like her mother’s own,
Two gentle, liquid things;
Her face is like an angel’s face—
We’re glad she has no wings.
6. Infant Joy
by William Blake
“I have no name;
I am but two days old.”
What shall I call thee?
“I happy am,
Joy is my name.”
Sweet joy befall thee!
Pretty joy!
Sweet joy, but two days old.
Sweet joy I call thee;
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while;
Sweet joy befall thee!
7. The Butterfly
by Lydia Howard Sigourney
A butterfly bask’d on a baby’s grave,
Where a lily had chanced to grow:
“Why art thou here, with thy gaudy die,
When she of the blue and sparkling eye,
Must sleep in the churchyard low?”
Then it lightly soar’d through the sunny air,
And spoke from its shining track:
“I was a worm till I won my wings,
And she whom thou mourn’st like a seraph sings:
Wouldst thou call the bless’d one back?”
8. Little Bed
by Ben Mitchell
Here I lie safe in my little bed
My small hands tucked under my head
I sleep so content in my growing love
Knowing that my parents are standing above
watching out for me so that I can grow
They love me so much, this I surely know
When I open my eyes, first thing I’ll see
will be my Mom and Dad standing over me
From them I’ll learn what is right and wrong
And then I will grow so big and be so strong
Then, when I’m bigger I will be so good
just like my parents knew I always would
Long Baby Poems
For those who want to really dive into the emotions and experiences of new parenthood, these long poetries about babies offer a rich and detailed exploration of the joys and challenges of raising a child.
1. Little Feet
by Elizabeth Akers
Two little feet, so small that both may nestle
In one caressing hand,—
Two tender feet upon the untried border
Of life’s mysterious land.
Dimpled, and soft, and pink as peach-tree blossoms,
In April’s fragrant days,
How can they walk among the briery tangles,
Edging the world’s rough ways?
These rose-white feet, along the doubtful future,
Must bear a mother’s load;
Alas! since Woman has the heavier burden,
And walks the harder road.
Love, for a while, will make the path before them
All dainty, smooth, and fair,—
Will cull away the brambles, letting only
The roses blossom there.
But when the mother’s watchful eyes are shrouded
Away from sight of men,
And these dear feet are left without her guiding,
Who shall direct them then?
How will they be allured, betrayed, deluded,
Poor little untaught feet!
Into what dreary mazes will they wander,
What dangers will they meet?
Will they go stumbling blindly in the darkness
Of Sorrow’s tearful shades?
Or find the upland slopes of Peace and Beauty,
Whose sunlight never fades?
Will they go toiling up Ambition’s summit,
The common world above?
Or in some nameless vale, securely sheltered,
Walk side by side with Love?
Some feet there be which walk Life’s track unwounded,
Which find but pleasant ways:
Some hearts there be to which this life is only
A round of happy days.
But these are few. Far more there are who wander
Without a hope or friend,—
Who find their journey full of pains and losses,
And long to reach the end.
How shall it be with her, the tender stranger,
Fair-faced and gentle-eyed,
Before whose unstained feet the world’s rude highway
Stretches so fair and wide?
Ah! who may read the future? For our darling
We crave all blessings sweet,
And pray that He who feeds the crying ravens
Will guide the baby’s feet.
2. The King of the Cradle
by Joseph Ashby-Sterry
Draw back the cradle curtains, Kate,
While watch and ward you’re keeping,
Let’s see the monarch in his state,
And view him while he’s sleeping.
He smiles and clasps his tiny hand,
With sunbeams o’er him gleaming,—
A world of baby fairyland
He visits while he’s dreaming.
Monarch of pearly powder-puff,
Asleep in nest so cosy,
Shielded from breath of breezes rough
By curtains warm and rosy:
He slumbers soundly in his cell,
As weak as one decrepid,
Though King of Coral, Lord of Bell,
And Knight of Bath that’s tepid.
Ah, lucky tyrant! Happy lot!
Fair watchers without number,
Who sweetly sing beside his cot,
And hush him off to slumber;
White hands in wait to smooth so neat
His pillow when its rumpled—
A couch of rose leaves soft and sweet,
Not one of which is crumpled!
Will yonder dainty dimpled hand—
Size, nothing and a quarter—
E’er grasp a saber, lead a band
To glory and to slaughter?
Or, may I ask, will those blue eyes—
In baby patois, “peepers”—
E’er in the House of Commons rise,
And try to catch the Speaker’s?
Will that smooth brow o’er Hansard frown,
Confused by lore statistic?
Or will those lips e’er stir the town
From pulpit ritualistic?
Will e’er that tiny Sybarite
Become an author noted?
That little brain the world’s delight,
Its works by all men quoted?
Though rosy, dimpled, plump, and round
Though fragile, soft, and tender,
Sometimes, alas! it may be found
The thread of life is slender!
A little shoe, a little glove—
Affection never waning—
The shattered idol of our love
Is all that is remaining!
Then does one chance, in fancy, hear, Small feet in childish patter,
Tread soft as they a grave draw near,
And voices hush their chatter;
‘Tis small and new; they pause in fear,
Beneath the gray church tower,
To consecrate it with a tear,
And deck it with a flower.
Who can predict the future, Kate—
Your fondest aspiration!
Who knows the solemn laws of fate,
That govern all creation?
Who knows what lot awaits your boy—
Of happiness or sorrow?
Sufficient for to-day is joy,
Leave tears, Sweet, for to-morrow!
3. Weighing the Baby
by Weighing the Baby
“How many pounds does the baby weigh—
Baby who came but a month ago?
How many pounds from the crowning curl
To the rosy point of the restless toe?”
Grandfather ties the ‘kerchief knot,
Tenderly guides the swinging weight,
And carefully over his glasses peers
To read the record, “only eight.”
Softly the echo goes around:
The father laughs at the tiny girl;
The fair young mother sings the words,
While grandmother smooths the golden curl.
And stooping above the precious thing,
Nestles a kiss within a prayer,
Murmuring softly “Little one,
Grandfather did not weigh you fair.”
Nobody weighed the baby’s smile,
Or the love that came with the helpless one;
Nobody weighed the threads of care,
From which a woman’s life is spun.
No index tells the mighty worth
Of a little baby’s quiet breath—
A soft, unceasing metronome,
Patient and faithful until death.
Nobody weighed the baby’s soul,
For here on earth no weights there be
That could avail; God only knows
Its value in eternity.
Only eight pounds to hold a soul
That seeks no angel’s silver wing,
But shrines it in this human guise,
Within so frail and small a thing!
Oh, mother! laugh your merry note,
Be gay and glad, but don’t forget
From baby’s eyes looks out a soul
That claims a home in Eden yet.
4. Wail of the Divorced
by Mary E. Tucker
How can I give thee up, my child, my dearest, earliest born,
While fond hopes are ’round thee clustered, like bright clouds o’er morning’s dawn?
No, I will not leave thee, darling; thou at least shall never say
That no tender hand did guide thee through the cares of childhood’s day.
My child! when first thy mother heard thy feeble, first-born wail,
Love’s tide came rushing through the heart, I thought encased in mail.
For the few years of my young life had been scenes of mirth and woe,
For I grasped the pleasures, darling, grasped them, ere I let them go!
E’en the brightest days of summer have their sunshine and their showers;
And the piercing thorn will wound us, as we pluck the fairest flowers;
But the perfume of the flowers makes us glory in the pain,
And exulting in the sunshine, we forget the chilling rain.
I know ‘twould break my aching heart to leave thee, precious one!
How can they brand me with a curse — what have I ever done?
I know that I have never sent a sister down to shame,
By casting blots of foulest sin upon a snow-white name.
Have charity, have charity, my child, for every sin —
For the sore temptation, darling, may all-powerful have been;
And always lend a helping hand to those who chance to fall;
Forgive, forget, be ready to obey your Saviour’s call.
Learn, learn, my child, and ne’er forget, learn while thou art still young,
That he will have the truest friends, who bridleth his tongue.
Speak well of all, if aught you know of evil, or of ill;
Deep in thy bosom let it rest, and keep the scandal still.
My baby, should you ever choose a partner for this life,
Oh, darling, ever strive to be a fond, devoted wife;
And never let thy husband’s name be spoken but in praise;
For some will, if you let them, sadly misconstrue his ways.
Seek not happiness in pleasure, for the dregs of every cup
Are so bitter, darling, bitter, as we quaff the latest sup!
And never seek, my child, to win the laurel wreath of fame,
Unless thou hast a heart to hear the world’s taunts, even shame.
Kind, noble, generous, they will give thy sister to me, dear:
But I must leave thee, child, and seek a home away from here.
Ah! I defy them to the last; they shall not part us, child
And thy mother’s hand shall rear thee — rear thee, pure and undefiled!
May the fond prayers of thy mother prove a love-protecting shield
From each sorrow, and each harrowing care, that life doth ever yield.
And may the hand of love, my child, pluck thorns from thy bright flowers;
And may’st thou find a home at last in heaven’s celestial bowers.
5. Baby Bell
by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
I
Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of ours?
The gates of heaven were left ajar:
With folded hands and dreamy eyes,
Wandering out of Paradise,
She saw this planet, like a star,
Hung in the glistening depths of even—
Its bridges, running to and fro,
O’er which the white-winged Angels go,
Bearing the holy Dead to heaven.
She touched a bridge of flowers—those feet,
So light they did not bend the bells
Of the celestial asphodels,
They fell like dew upon the flowers:
Then all the air grew strangely sweet.
And thus came dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of ours.
II
She came and brought delicious May;
The swallows built beneath the eaves;
Like sunlight, in and out the leaves
The robins went, the livelong day;
The lily swung its noiseless bell;
And on the porch the slender vine
Held out its cups of fairy wine.
How tenderly the twilights fell!
Oh, earth was full of singing-birds
And opening springtide flowers,
When the dainty Baby Bell
Came to this world of ours.
III
O Baby, dainty Baby Bell,
How fair she grew from day to day!
What woman-nature filled her eyes,
What poetry within them lay—
Those deep and tender twilight eyes,
So full of meaning, pure and bright
As if she yet stood in the light
Of those oped gates of Paradise.
And so we loved her more and more:
Ah, never in our hearts before
Was love so lovely born:
We felt we had a link between
This real world and that unseen—
The land beyond the morn;
And for the love of those dear eyes,
For love of her whom God led forth,
(The mother’s being ceased on earth
When Baby came from Paradise,)—
For love of Him who smote our lives,
And woke the chords of joy and pain,
We said, Dear Christ!—our hearts bowed down
Like violets after rain.
IV
And now the orchards, which were white
And pink with blossoms when she came,
Were rich in autumn’s mellow prime;
The clustered apples burnt like flame,
The folded chestnut burst its shell,
The grapes hung purpling, range on range;
And time wrought just as rich a change
In little Baby Bell.
Her lissome form more perfect grew,
And in her features we could trace,
In softened curves, her mother’s face.
Her angel-nature ripened too:
We thought her lovely when she came,
But she was holy, saintly now…
Around her pale angelic brow
We saw a slender ring of flame.
V
God’s hand had taken away the seal
That held the portals of her speech;
And oft she said a few strange words
Whose meaning lay beyond our reach.
She never was a child to us,
We never held her being’s key;
We could not teach her holy things
Who was Christ’s self in purity.
VI
It came upon us by degrees,
We saw its shadow ere it fell—
The knowledge that our God had sent
His messenger for Baby Bell.
We shuddered with unlanguaged pain,
And all our hopes were changed to fears,
And all our thoughts ran into tears
Like sunshine into rain.
We cried aloud in our belief,
“Oh, smite us gently, gently, God!
Teach us to bend and kiss the rod,
And perfect grow through grief.”
Ah! how we loved her, God can tell;
Her heart was folded deep in ours.
Our hearts are broken, Baby Bell!
VII
At last he came, the messenger,
The messenger from unseen lands:
And what did dainty Baby Bell?
She only crossed her little hands,
She only looked more meek and fair!
We parted back her silken hair,
We wove the roses round her brow—
White buds, the summer’s drifted snow—
Wrapped her from head to foot in flowers…
And thus went dainty Baby Bell
Out of this world of ours.
6. To a New-Born Child
by Cosmo Monkhouse
Small traveler from an unseen shore,
By mortal eye ne’er seen before,
To you, good-morrow.
You are as fair a little dame
As ever from a glad world came
To one of sorrow.
We smile above you, but you fret;
We call you gentle names, and yet
Your cries redouble.
‘Tis hard for little babes to prize
The tender love that underlies
A life of trouble.
And have you come from Heaven to earth?
That were a road of little mirth,
A doleful travel.
“Why did I come?” you seem to cry,
But that’s a riddle you and I
Can scarce unravel.
Perhaps you really wished to come,
But now you are so far from home
Repent the trial.
What! did you leave celestial bliss
To bless us with a daughter’s kiss?
What self-denial!
Have patience for a little space,
You might have come to a worse place,
Fair Angel-rover.
No wonder now you would have stayed,
But hush your cries, my little maid,
The journey’s over.
For, utter stranger as you are,
There yet are many hearts ajar
For your arriving,
And trusty friends and lovers true
Are waiting, ready-made for you,
Without your striving.
The earth is full of lovely things,
And if at first you miss your wings,
You’ll soon forget them;
And others, of a rarer kind
Will grow upon your tender mind—
If you will let them—
Until you find that your exchange
Of Heaven for earth expands your range
E’en as a flier,
And that your mother, you and I,
If we do what we should, may fly
Than Angels higher.
7. The Little Foot
by Hannah Flagg Gould
My boy, as gently on my breast,
From infant sport, thou sink’st to rest;
And on my hand I feel thee put,
In playful dreams, thy little foot,
The thrilling touch sets every string
Of my full heart to quivering;
For, ah! I think, what chart can show
The ways through which this foot may go?
Its print will be, in childhood’s hours,
Traced in the garden, round the flowers;
But youth will bid it leap the rills,
Bathe in the dew on distant hills,
Roam o’er the vales, and venture out
When riper years would pause and doubt,
Nor brave the pass, nor try the brink
Where youth’s unguarded foot may sink.
But what, when manhood tints thy cheek,
Will be the ways this foot will seek?
Is it to lightly pace the deck,
Helpless, to slip from off the wreck?
Or wander o’er a foreign shore,
Returning to thy home no more,
Until the bosom now thy pillow,
Is low and cold beneath the willow?
Or, is it for the battle-plain,
Beside the slayer and the slain?
Will there its final step be taken?
There, sleep thine eye no more to waken?
Is it to glory or to shame—
To sully, or to gild thy name?
Is it to happiness or wo
This little foot is made to go?
But wheresoe’er its lines may fall,
Whether in cottage or in hall;
O, may it ever shun the ground
Where’er his foot was never found,
Who, on his path of life, hath shed
A living light, that all may tread
Upon his earthly steps; and none
E’er dash the foot against a stone!
Yet, if thy way is marked by fate,
As, guilty, dark and desolate;
If thou must float, by vice and crime,
A wreck, upon the stream of time!
Oh! rather than behold that day,
I’d know this foot, in lightsome play,
Would bound, with guiltless, infant glee,
Upon the sod that sheltered me!
8. To Little Renee on First Seeing Her Lying in Her Cradle
by William Aspenwall Bradley
Who is she here that now I see,
This dainty new divinity,
Love’s sister, Venus’ child? She shows
Her hues, white lily and pink rose,
And in her laughing eyes the snares
That hearts entangle unawares.
Ah, woe to men if Love should yield
His arrows to this girl to wield
Even in play, for she would give
Sore wounds that none might take and live.
Yet no such wanton strain is hers,
Nor Leda’s child and Jupiter’s
Is she, though swans no softer are
Than whom she fairer is by far.
For she was born beside the rill
That gushes from Parnassus’ hill,
And by the bright Pierian spring
She shall receive an offering
From every youth who pipes a strain
Beside his flocks upon the plain.
But I, the first, this very day,
Will tune for her my humble lay,
Invoking this new Muse to render
My oaten reed more sweet and tender,
Within its vibrant hollows wake
Such dulcet voices for her sake
As, curved hand at straining ear,
I long have stood and sought to hear
Borne with the warm midsummer breeze
With scent of hay and hum of bees
Faintly from far-off Sicily….
Ah, well I know that not for us
Are Virgil and Theocritus,
And that the golden age is past
Whereof they sang, and thou, the last,
Sweet Spenser, of their god-like line,
Soar far too swift for verse of mine
One strain to compass of your song.
Yet there are poets that prolong
Of your rare voice the ravishment
In silver cadences; content
Were I if I could but rehearse
One stave of Wither’s starry verse,
Weave such wrought richness as recalls
Britannia’s lovely Pastorals,
Or in some garden-spot suspire
One breath of Marvell’s magic fire
When in the green and leafy shade
He sees dissolving all that’s made.
Ah, little Muse still far too high
On weak, clipped wings my wishes fly.
Transform them then and make them doves,
Soft-moaning birds that Venus loves,
That they may circle ever low
Above the abode where you shall grow
Into your gracious womanhood.
And you shall feed the gentle brood
From out your hand—content they’ll be
Only to coo their songs to thee.
9. I Love You, Baby
by Stephanie E. Layton
When I found out you were coming,
It took me by surprise.
It took me time to realize
I’ll have a son by my side.
People said well, you’re too young,
you don’t know what you’re doing.
You’ll have no future for your baby,
your life is now all ruined.
I blew them off and worked real hard.
For future is what I’ll give him.
Nothing less is what he deserves,
for he is a gift from heaven.
June 17th, the time has come.
The birth of my son is here.
How big will you be? Are you healthy?
What color will be your hair?
So many questions run in my head
as I’m waiting for you to come out.
The next thing I hear, the greatest thing.
You let out a tremendous shout.
Your cry was like a beautiful
song sung just for me.
I knew now that you were safe
and soon you’ll be with mommy.
In my arms your body went.
I counted ten fingers and toes.
Then I looked at your face.
I counted two eyes and a nose.
Time went by way too fast.
Now you’re learning to crawl.
Before I know it, the day will come
when I’m chasing you down the hall.
Happy Birthday to my HIMS.
What a year it has been.
You’ve learned so much and getting bigger.
You’re one and you’ll soon be 10.
I love you always and forever.
You’ll always be by my side.
It’s HIMS and mommy from here
on out until the end of time.
Baby Poems That Rhyme
There’s something about a rhyming poem that makes it a fun read. These poems about babies with rhyming words are playful, catchy, and sure to put a smile on your face.
1. A Secret
by John Charles McNeill
A little baby went to sleep
One night in his white bed,
And the moon came by to take a peep
At the little baby head.
A wind, as wandering winds will do,
Brought to the baby there
Sweet smells from some quaint flower that grew
Out on some hill somewhere.
And wind and flower and pale moonbeam
About the baby’s bed
Stirred and woke the funniest dream
In the little sleepy head.
He thought he was all sorts of things
From a lion to a cat;
Sometimes he thought he flew on wings,
Or fell and fell, so that
When morning broke he was right glad
But much surprised to see
Himself a soft, pink little lad
Just like he used to be.
I would not give this story fame
If there were room to doubt it,
But when he learned to talk, he came
And told me all about it.
2. Only
by Harriet Prescott Spofford
Something to live for came to the place,
Something to die for maybe,
Something to give even sorrow a grace,
And yet it was only a baby!
Cooing, and laughter, and gurgles, and cries,
Dimples for tenderest kisses,
Chaos of hopes, and of raptures, and sighs,
Chaos of fears and of blisses.
Last year, like all years, the rose and the thorn;
This year a wilderness maybe;
But heaven stooped under the roof on the morn
That it brought them only a baby.
3. Home Again, Home Again
by Marilyn Taylor
The children are back, the children are back—
They’ve come to take refuge, exhale and unpack;
The marriage has faltered, the job has gone bad,
Come open the door for them, Mother and Dad.
The city apartment is leaky and cold,
The landlord lascivious, greedy and old—
The mattress is lumpy, the oven’s encrusted,
The freezer, the fan, and the toilet have rusted.
The company caved, the boss went broke,
The job and the love affair, all up in smoke.
The anguish of loneliness comes as a shock—
O heart in the doldrums, O heart in hock.
And so they return with their piles of possessions,
Their terrified cats and their mournful expressions,
Reclaiming the bedrooms they had in their teens,
Clean towels, warm comforter, glass figurines.
Downstairs in the kitchen the father and mother
Don’t say a word, but they look at each other
As down from the hill comes Jill, comes Jack.
The children are back. The children are back.
4. Two Hands
by Mary Bartol
A little hand, with magic in its palm,
Draws me resistless on; I press
The sweet and rosy flesh and feel a balm
Distilling from the soft caress.
It is mid-day in June; I have no will
To check the baby’s words, which reach
Me half articulate: I have no skill
To oppose the pleadings of his speech.
On, on, my guide is monarch of the hour,
And I the slave of that small hand,
Which flings afar my fleeting dreams of power,
And chokes the projects I had planned.
Two different hands; one satin and one hard,
One plump and young, one old and thin,
And filled with lines, where life has scarred
Its pain and let confession in.
One brown and wrinkled hand, one dimpled hand,
The weaker fingers point one way,
I tire of my young officer’s command,
And yet—I dare not disobey!
5. A Parent’s Prayer
by David Axton
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my sanity to keep.
For if some peace I do not find,
I’m pretty sure I’ll lose my mind.
I pray I find a little quiet,
Far from the daily family riot.
May I lie back and not have to think
About what they’re stuffing down the sink,
Or who they’re with, or where they’re at
And what they’re doing to the cat.
I pray for time all to myself
(did something just fall off a shelf?)
To cuddle in my nice, soft bed
(Oh no, another goldfish–dead!)
Some silent moments for goodness sake
(Did I just hear a window break?)
And that I need not cook or clean
(well heck, I’ve got the right to dream)
Yes now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray my wits about me keep,
But as I look around I know,
I must have lost them long ago!
6. The First Tooth
by William Brighty Rands
There once was a wood, and a very thick wood,
So thick that to walk was as much as you could;
But a sunbeam got in, and the trees understood.
I went to this wood, at the end of the snows,
And as I was walking I saw a primrose;
Only one! Shall I show you the place where it grows?
There once was a house, and a very dark house,
As dark, I believe, as the hole of a mouse,
Or a tree in my wood, at the thick of the boughs.
I went to this house, and I searched it aright,
I opened the chambers, and I found a light;
Only one! Shall I show you this little lamp bright?
There once was a cave, and this very dark cave
One day took a gift from an incoming wave;
And I made up my mind to know what the sea gave.
I took a lit torch, I walked round the ness
When the water was lowest; and in a recess
In my cave was a jewel. Will nobody guess?
O there was a baby, he sat on my knee,
With a pearl in his mouth that was precious to me,
His little dark mouth like my cave of the sea!
I said to my heart, “And my jewel is bright!
He blooms like a primrose! He shines like a light!”
Put your hand in his mouth! Do you feel? He can bite!
7. Baby
by George Macdonald
Where did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the everywhere into the here.
Where did you get those eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.
What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
Some of the starry spikes left in.
Where did you get that little tear?
I found it waiting when I got here.
What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
A soft hand stroked it as I went by.
What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
I saw something better than anyone knows.
Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.
Where did you get this pearly ear?
God spoke, and it came out to hear.
Where did you get those arms and hands?
Love made itself into bonds and bands.
Feet, where did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as the cherubs’ wings.
How did they all just come to be you?
God thought about me, and so I grew.
But how did you come to us, you dear?
God thought about you, and so I am here.
8. Hush, Little Baby (The Mockingbird Song)
by Anonymous
Hush, little baby, don’t say a word,
Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.
If that mockingbird won’t sing,
Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring
If that diamond ring turns brass,
Mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass.
If that looking glass gets broke,
Mama’s gonna buy you a billy goat,
If that billy goat don’t pull,
Mama’s gonna buy you a cart and bull.
If that cart and bull turn over,
Mama’s gonna buy you a dog named Rover.
If that dog named Rover won’t bark,
Mama’s gonna buy you a horse and cart.
If that horse and cart fall down,
You’ll be the sweetest little baby in town.
Newborn Baby Poems
Welcoming a new life into the world is a momentous occasion, and these baby wishes poems capture the excitement and love that comes with it.
1. Hello New Baby
by Anonymous
Hello there little (fellow/lass)!
The good news is going ’round
That you’ve made a “happy landing”
And arrived all safe and sound
Well this just comes to tell you
That you’re lucky as can be
To become the newest member
Of so nice a family!
2. A Little Face
by Kate Slaughter McKinney
A little face to look at,
A little face to kiss;
Is there anything, I wonder,
That’s half so sweet as this?
A little cheek to dimple
When smiles begin to grow
A little mouth betraying
Which way the kisses go.
A slender little ringlet,
A rosy little ear;
A little chin to quiver
When falls the little tear.
A little face to look at,
A little face to kiss;
Is there anything, I wonder,
That’s half so sweet as this?
A little hand so fragile
All through the night to hold
Two little feet so tender
To tuck in from the cold.
Two eyes to watch the sunbeam
That with the shadow plays—
A darling little baby
To kiss and love always.
3. May I Hold the Baby?
by Amos Russel Wells
A Humble Request of the Modern Mamma
Dear Modern Mamma, if you please,
I’d like to take the baby.
I’ll hold my breath, nor cough, nor sneeze,
If I may hold the baby,
As one who fully understands
The law of germs and its commands
I’ve disinfected both my hands—
And may I hold the baby?
I will not kiss the precious thing,
If I may hold the baby;
And only Tennyson I’ll sing,
If I may hold the baby.
I will not rock it, cradlewise,
I will not torn it if it cries,
I will not twist my mouth or eyes,
If I may hold the baby.
By Pestalozzl I will walk,
If I may hold the baby.
I’ll not indulge in baby talk,
If I may hold the baby.
With placid brow and soul serene
I’ll talk of Greek and Plelocene,
And it will gather all I mean.
Please may I hold the baby?
I’ll give it nothing good to eat,
If I may hold the baby;
Especially no horrid sweet,—
And may I hold the baby?
I loathe, abhor, the ancient use
Of Mrs. Winslow’s soothing juice.
I’ll banish her, with Mother Goose,
If I may hold the baby.
4. Cherish This Time
by Joanna Fuchs
So your baby is here!
What joy and what pleasure!
Now your life is expanding,
To make room for this treasure.
A darling newcomer
To have and to hold–
Her (His) smiles are more precious
Than silver or gold.
She’ll (He’ll) demolish your schedule
Though she’s helpless and small;
She’ll make her needs known,
And she’ll rule over all.
See, a new parent’s work
Is just never quite done,
But you’ll never mind,
‘Cause it’s all so much fun.
When you hear her cute giggle
You’ll start “aahing” and “oohing,”
And she’ll soon reply back
By “ga ga” and “goo gooing.”
Those big innocent eyes
See a world strange and new;
To make sense of it all
She’ll look only to you.
So cherish this time
Of miraculous things–
The excitement and wonder
That a new baby brings.
5. Little Hands
by Laurence Binyon
Soft little hands that stray and clutch,
Like fern fronds curl and uncurl bold,
While baby faces lie in such
Close sleep as flowers at night that fold,
What is it you would, clasp and hold,
Wandering outstretched with wilful touch?
O fingers small of shell-tipped rose,
How should you know you hold so much?
Two full hearts beating you inclose,
Hopes, fears, prayers, longings, joys and woes,—
All yours to hold, O little hands!
More, more than wisdom understands
And love, love only knows.
6. A Baby is a Blessing
by Helen Steiner Rice
A Baby is a Blessing
A Gift from Heaven above
A Precious Little Angel
To Cherish and to Love.
A wee bit of heaven
drifted down from above-
A handful of happiness,
a heart full of love.
The mystery of life,
so sacred and sweet-
The giver of joy
so deep and complete.
Precious and priceless,
so lovable, too-
The world’s sweetest miracle,
baby, is you.
7. I Love You
by Umanga Wijesena
I love your brown eyes
I love your button nose
I love your messy morning hair
and your teeny, tiny toes
I love your big bright smile
and your little pearly whites
I love your pointy chin
and your silky smooth skin
I love your long little fingers
and your chubby little cheeks
I love your ducky walk
and your never ending talk
I love it when you sing
and start splashing the bath
I love it when you sleep
snuggled in my arms
I love you with all my heart
no matter what it may be
Sometimes I love for no reason
and sometime because you’re my sweet honeybee.
Baby Poems for New Parents
Raising a baby can be both exhilarating and exhausting, and these baby poems for new parents offer words of encouragement, humor, and wisdom for the journey ahead.
1. Joy Without Measure
by Karl and Joanna Fuchs
We heard the good news,
So it’s hip, hip, hooray!
We’re so happy for you,
And we hope and we pray
That your brand new addition
Is a wonderful treasure,
And along with the work,
He/she brings joy beyond measure.
2. Time Well Spent
by Joanna Fuchs
See tiny fingers and tiny toes,
Bright baby eyes, cute baby nose;
Hear baby gurgles and baby sighs,
As Mom and Dad sing lullabies.
Life is changed, but that’s okay;
It’s fun to spend glad hours each day,
Taking time for all the good
That comes along with parenthood.
3. Precious Baby
by Joanna Fuchs
A new family member has arrived,
Your darling, precious baby.
Your lives are filled with amazing love,
And sleep has become a “maybe!”
Congratulations! Now enjoy
Your dear and special treasure;
Your lives are better, now transformed
With childhood’s awesome pleasure.
4. To the Parents
by Anonymous
A new little baby
To love beyond measure-
To add to your lives
More joys and more pleasure
And may each new year
Hold for Baby and you
The happy fulfillment
Of dreams that come true
5. Your New Arrival
by Karl Fuchs
It’s got a cute nose and big round eyes;
It’s created excitement you can’t disguise;
It’s a wonderful baby from a perfect pair,
And that’s reason enough for a great fanfare.
6. A Baby Changes Things
by Karl and Joanna Fuchs
A baby changes things;
They’ll never be the same;
Your life is filled with wonder,
Since your little miracle came.
There’s lots of things to do now,
But with the new tasks you face,
Your family gains more love,
And bonds time will never erase.
7. New Parents
by Michele Meleen
No amount of planning
could prepare us
to see your face,
to feel so full of grace,
too long for your embrace.
Thanks to your sweet smile
we can end our dream’s race
because you are our happy place.
8. The Joy of Raising a Baby
by Karl and Joanna Fuchs
We’re glad you joined our family,
Yet some things make us wonder;
How can a little package like you
Have a voice that’s loud as thunder?
You are so small and oh so cute,
But you are never very shy,
For whenever you want something brought to you,
You just open your mouth and cry.
First you moved on hands and knees,
Then you were up on your feet.
We’re chasing you all around the house;
We’re tired; we need a retreat!
Your food is smeared over the table;
Your food is on the floor;
Seems the only place food didn’t go,
Is in the baby we adore.
Diapers here and diapers there,
Stinky… smelly… Whew!
Diapers would have done us in,
If we didn’t love you as we do.
We’re glad you joined our family,
You’re a unique and wonderful treasure.
So, despite the work of raising you,
Being your parents is a total pleasure!
Baby Poems for Boy
Having a baby boy is a special experience, and these poems for baby boy celebrate all the wonder and adventure that comes with raising a son.
1. A Love Like Mom’s
by Michele Meleen
From the moment you were formed,
my heart has been warmed.
My little baby boy,
Gives me everlasting joy.
No one can love you such as I,
because I gave you life.
A love like Mom’s is one of a kind,
made only for one special little guy.
2. Bartholomew
by Norman Gale
Bartholomew is very sweet,
From sandy hair to rosy feet.
Bartholomew is six months old,
And dearer far than pearls or gold.
Bartholomew has deep blue eyes,
Round pieces dropped from out the skies.
Bartholomew is hugged and kissed:
He loves a flower in either fist.
Bartholomew’s my saucy son:
No mother has a sweeter one!
3. A Mother’s Promise
by Nicole Seymour
I promise to always love you in whoever you decide to be
I promise to be there for you, whenever you need me
I promise to not pass judgment without first hearing you out
I promise to be in your life from day one and to learn what you’re about
I promise to keep you healthy and to help you grow nice and strong
I promise to teach you to be a good person and know what is right and wrong
I promise to protect you and to always know you are okay
I promise to always remember that being your mom is a gift, every single day
~~
These words, my angel, are my promise to you
And during tough times I will read them through
To be reassured that what I am doing is right
And never giving up without a fight
You are now and will forever be,
My sweetest little boy.. My baby
4. Baby’s Breakfast
by Emilie Poulsson
Baby wants his breakfast,
Oh! what shall I do?
Said the cow, “I’ll give him
Nice fresh milk—moo-oo!”
Said the hen, “Cut-dah cut!
I have laid an egg
For the Baby’s breakfast—
Take it now, I beg!”
And the buzzing bee said,
“Here is honey sweet.
Don’t you think the Baby
Would like that to eat?”
Then the baker kindly
Brought the Baby’s bread.
“Breakfast is all ready,”
Baby’s mother said;
“But before the Baby
Eats his dainty food,
Will he not say ‘Thank you!’
To his friends so good?”
Then the bonny Baby
Laughed and laughed away.
That was all the “Thank you”
He knew how to say.
5. Rhyme of One
by Frederick Locker-Lampson
You sleep upon your mother’s breast,
Your race begun,
A welcome, long a wished-for Guest,
Whose age is One.
A Baby-Boy, you wonder why
You cannot run;
You try to talk—how hard you try!—
You’re only One.
Ere long you won’t be such a dunce:
You’ll eat your bun,
And fly your kite, like folk who once
Were only One.
You’ll rhyme and woo, and fight and joke,
Perhaps you’ll pun!
Such feats are never done by folk
Before they’re One.
Some day, too, you may have your joy,
And envy none;
Yes, you, yourself, may own a Boy,
Who isn’t One.
He’ll dance, and laugh, and crow; he’ll do
As you have done:
(You crown a happy home, though you
Are only One.)
But when he’s grown shall you be here
To share his fun,
And talk of times when he (the Dear!)
Was hardly One?
Dear Child, ’tis your poor lot to be
My little Son;
I’m glad, though I am old, you see,—
While you are One.
6. My Baby Boy
by Tonya Y. Hiers
Hey baby boy
You bring me joy
Every time I look at you
All the little things you do
I’m so glad God gave me you
I wake every morning just to look in your eyes
Every single morning I get a different surprise
I pray every day that God blesses us both
But I pray even more that God blesses you most.
7. First Breath
by Kate Miller-Wilson
In the instant, your eyes meet his,
the world goes quiet.
All you hear is his first breath,
the first breath you take as a parent.
The future blooms before you
with visions of science projects,
ball games,
graduations and weddings:
all the moments that make a life.
Embrace your new role, just as
you embrace your baby boy.
You were born for this.
8. My Son, My Sun
by Michele Meleen
The Earth revolves around its sun,
gathering strength and warmth.
As do I eternally need my son,
to give me light from this day forth.
You are the brightly glowing light,
my son, my sun glowing in my sky,
illuminating my darkest nights,
my world consists of you and I.
9. Baby Feet
by Kate Miller-Wilson
Today, your feet are as tiny as can be;
Someday, those feet will carry you away from me.
I must teach you if I can
to be a strong and loving man
to trust your heart in every choice
to stand up tall and use your voice,
to care for those with less than you
to try your best at all you do.
But I’ll cherish this moment before it goes
And hold you close and kiss your toes.
10. My Sweet Baby Boy
by Anonymous
Bubbles, laughs, smiles of joy
As I kiss the top of your head
My sweet baby boy
Kisses, hugs and memories so bright
You hold the key to my heart, you’re my little light
Crawls, falls, I’ll keep you close by
These will be the days that I remember
With you and I
Baby Poems for Girl
From bows and ribbons to tea parties and princesses, these poems for baby girl capture the magic and beauty of having a daughter.
1. Baby Girl
by Rebecca
Big blue eyes and a beautiful smile,
all the qualities to last the longest while.
Comforting laugh and a warm heart,
so many blessings I don’t know where to start.
Small hands and such small feet,
but my love for you no one could beat.
Intelligence and beauty,
two of two you got from me.
Laughter from the angels, sparks from the fire,
you’re my beautiful blessing that I love and admire.
Simplicity and happiness I hope come your way,
for I found both on your special birthday.
My loving, sweet baby girl,
for you my love is more than all that in the world.
Walk strong and tall with all your grace.
Find happiness and strength along your way
my little girl, I love you dear.
Be happy, graceful, and lively through all your years.
To my baby girl, you are my hero–love mommy!!
2. My Little Girl’s Hand
by Anonymous
By every bruise upon this little hand
I heal with balm and kiss away the grief,
Better the Father’s love I understand,
Better my own torn spirit finds relief.
By all those hours the little hand grew white
And ah so sadly frail upon the bed,
My darkened soul drew forth into the light,
My wandering feet to heaven’s gates were led.
Yea, by the very times this little hand
Is snatched in wilfulness away from mine,
Better my own revolts I understand,
And lay, O God! more trustful hands in Thine.
3. Baby May
by William Cox Bennett
Cheeks as soft as July peaches,
Lips whose dewy scarlet teaches
Poppies paleness—round large eyes
Ever great with new surprise,
Minutes filled with shadeless gladness,
Minutes just as brimmed with sadness,
Happy smiles and wailing cries,
Crows and laughs and tearful eyes,
Lights and shadows swifter born
Than on wind-swept Autumn corn,
Ever some new tiny notion
Making every limb all motion—
Catching up of legs and arms,
Throwings back and small alarms,
Clutching fingers—straightening jerks,
Twining feet whose each toe works,
Kickings up and straining risings,
Mother’s ever new surprisings,
Hands all wants and looks all wonder
At all things the heavens under,
Tiny scorns of smiled reprovings
That have more of love than lovings,
Mischiefs done with such a winning
Archness, that we prize such sinning,
Breakings dire of plates and glasses,
Graspings small at all that passes,
Pullings off of all that’s able
To be caught from tray or table;
Silences—small meditations,
Deep as thoughts of cares for nations,
Breaking into wisest speeches
In a tongue that nothing teaches,
All the thoughts of whose possessing
Must be wooed to light by guessing;
Slumbers—such sweet angel-seemings,
That we’d ever have such dreamings,
Till from sleep we see thee breaking,
And we’d always have thee waking;
Wealth for which we know no measure,
Pleasure high above all pleasure,
Gladness brimming over gladness,
Joy in care—delight in sadness,
Loveliness beyond completeness,
Sweetness distancing all sweetness,
Beauty all that beauty may be—
That’s May Bennett, that’s my baby.
4. To a New-Born Baby Girl
by Grace Hazard Conkling
And did thy sapphire shallop slip
Its moorings suddenly, to dip
Adown the clear, ethereal sea
From star to star, all silently?
What tenderness of archangels
In silver, thrilling syllables
Pursued thee, or what dulcet hymn
Low-chanted by the cherubim?
And thou departing must have heard
The holy Mary’s farewell word,
Who with deep eyes and wistful smile
Remembered Earth a little while.
Now from the coasts of morning pale
Comes safe to port thy tiny sail.
Now have we seen by early sun,
Thy miracle of life begun.
All breathing and aware thou art,
With beauty templed in thy heart
To let thee recognize the thrill
Of wings along far azure hill,
And hear within the hollow sky
Thy friends the angels rushing by.
These shall recall that thou hast known
Their distant country as thine own,
To spare thee word of vales and streams,
And publish heaven through thy dreams.
The human accents of the breeze
Through swaying star-acquainted trees Shall
seem a voice heard earlier,
Her voice, the adoring sigh of her,
When thou amid rosy cherub-play
Didst hear her call thee, far away,
And dream in very Paradise
The worship of thy mother’s eyes.
5. I Never Knew
by Martha L. Sheridan
I never knew I could love so much,
until the day I felt your touch.
I softly kissed your tiny cheek,
and from under your lashes I saw you peek.
Your beautiful eyes so small and blue,
my sweet little baby just brand new.
I cannot wait to watch you grow,
from your little head to your tiny toes.
My daughter, my love, my little joy,
my little angel, my baby doll toy.
I promise to love you with all my heart.
I’m here for you from the very start.
I’ll comfort you when you cry,
I’ll answer true when you ask me, “Why?”
While you grow, be sweet and kind,
and show all others how much you shine.
6. Songs for Fragoletta
by Richard Le Gallienne
I
Fragoletta, blessed one!
What think you of the light of the sun?
Do you think the dark was best,
Lying snug in mother’s breast?
Ah! I knew that sweetness, too,
Fragoletta, before you!
But, Fragoletta, now you’re born,
You must learn to love the morn,
Love the lovely working light,
Love the miracle of sight,
Love the thousand things to do—
Little girl, I envy you!—
Love the thousand things to see,
Love your mother, and—love me!
And some night, Fragoletta, soon,
I’ll take you out to see the moon;
And for the first time, child of ours,
You shall—think of it!—look on flowers,
And smell them, too, if you are good,
And hear the green leaves in the wood
Talking, talking, all together
In the happy windy weather;
And if the journey’s not too far
For little limbs so lately made,
Limb upon limb like petals laid,
We’ll go and picnic in a star.
II
Blue eyes, looking up at me,
I wonder what you really see,
Lying in your cradle there,
Fragrant as a branch of myrrh?
Helpless little hands and feet,
O so helpless! O so sweet!
Tiny tongue that cannot talk,
Tiny feet that cannot walk,
Nothing of you that can do
Aught, except those eyes of blue.
How they open, how they close!—
Eyelids of the baby-rose.
Open and shut—so blue, so wise,
Baby-eyelids, baby-eyes.
III
That, Fragoletta, is the rain
Beating upon the window-pane;
But lo! The golden sun appears,
To kiss away the window’s tears.
That, Fragoletta, is the wind,
That rattles so the window-blind;
And yonder shining thing’s a star,
Blue eyes—you seem ten times as far.
That, Fragoletta, is a bird
That speaks, yet never says a word;
Upon a cherry tree it sings,
Simple as all mysterious things;
Its little life to peck and pipe,
As long as cherries ripe and ripe,
And minister unto the need
Of baby-birds that feed and feed.
This, Fragoletta, is a flower,
Open and fragrant for an hour,
A flower, a transitory thing,
Each petal fleeting as a wing,
All a May morning blows and blows,
And then for everlasting goes.
IV
Blue eyes, against the whiteness pressed
Of little mother’s hallowed breast,
The while your trembling lips are fed,
Look up at mother’s bended head,
All benediction over you—
O blue eyes looking into blue!
Fragoletta is so small,
We wonder that she lives at all—
Tiny alabaster girl,
Hardly bigger than a pearl;
That is why we take such care,
Lest some one run away with her.
7. The New Arrival
by George W. Cable
There came to port last Sunday night
The queerest little craft,
Without an inch of rigging on;
I looked and looked and laughed.
It seemed so curious that she
Should cross the Unknown water,
And moor herself right in my room,
My daughter, O my daughter!
Yet by these presents witness all
She’s welcome fifty times,
And comes consigned to Hope and Love
And common-meter rhymes.
She has no manifest but this,
No flag floats o’er the water,
She’s too new for the British Lloyds—
My daughter, O my daughter!
Ring out, wild bells, and tame ones too!
Ring out the lover’s moon!
Ring in the little worsted socks!
Ring in the bib and spoon!
Ring out the muse! ring in the nurse!
Ring in the milk and water!
Away with paper, pen, and ink—
My daughter, O my daughter!
8. Alice
by Herbert Bashford
Of deepest blue of summer skies
Is wrought the heaven of her eyes.
Of that fine gold the autumns wear
Is wrought the glory of her hair.
Of rose leaves fashioned in the south
Is shaped the marvel of her mouth.
And from the honeyed lips of bliss
Is drawn the sweetness of her kiss,
‘Mid twilight thrushes that rejoice
Is found the cadence of her voice,
Of winds that wave the western fir
Is made the velvet touch of her.
Of all earth’s songs God took the half
To make the ripple of her laugh.
I hear you ask, “Pray who is she?”—
This maid that is so dear to me.
“A reigning queen in Fashion’s whirl?”
Nay, nay! She is my baby girl.
9. Thank You, God
by Shirley J. Stankiewicz
Sent straight from heaven up above
Came an angel for me to love
To hold and rock and kiss good night
To wrap my arms around real tight
To cuddle and nurture and watch him play
To kiss his boo-boos all away
To keep him safe and warm and count all his toes
To hold the tissue for him when he blows his little nose
To laugh at his jokes, to clap as he sings
To tell him all the joy in my life that he brings
To clean up his play dough, to pull his legos apart
To pin up his drawings and tell him it’s art
To watch his first day of school on the bus all alone
To fight back the tears as I make my way back home
To applaud real loud when he’s in his first play
To help him with his homework at the end of his day
To adore and cherish and watch him grow
To guide and teach him all that I know
To see him through good times and help him through bad
To share in his happiness and cry when he’s sad
To hold him close and be by his side
To watch him through life as my heart fills with pride
To help him with decisions the best that I can
To know that someday he’ll be a fine young man
Final Thoughts
In conclusion, baby poems are a beautiful way to celebrate the start of a new life and express the joy and wonder that comes with it.
Whether they are short and sweet or long and detailed, these poems capture the essence of the precious bond between parent and child.
The variety of styles and themes available allow for a personal touch and unique expression of emotions.
From funny and light-hearted to inspiring and heartfelt, there are a bunch of different baby poems for every sentiment.
Sharing these poems about babies with new parents can be a thoughtful and meaningful gesture that they will cherish for years to come.
