Archive for February 23rd, 2014




Where did you come from, baby dear? Out of the everywhere into here.

Where did you get your 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 hooks and bands.

Feet, whence 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

~George MacDonald

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cry babycry babycry baby

Poetry about babies are some of the most popular poems that are written.
There is something about interacting with a baby that ignites something magical in all of us.
They stare at us with inquisitive eyes curious about everything that is happening in their world.
We look into their eyes and we remember a time before we were sure we had seen everything meaningful in life.
They are us in miniature.
We look at their tiny features and their chubby little bodies and we can’t help but smile.
Interacting with a  baby can be truly miraculous


A poem about my innocent little man.

Little Bed

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

© Ben Mitchell 

baby girl

A father promises to his little baby girl that she will always be “daddy’s little angel”.

Daddy’s Little Angel

When you were born you filled my heart with pride, And I was overcome by the joy I felt inside.
As I held you in my arms that very first day, I knew I would never let any harm come your way.
With your tiny little hands and tiny little feet,
Every time I look at you my heart skips a beat.
As I watch you sleep in the middle of the night,
I hope and pray I will do everything right.
I know I may make some mistakes along the way,
But I promise to do my best not to every single day.
I often wonder what you will grow up to be,
But whatever you become will be fine with me.
So whatever you may decide to do in your life,
Maybe an astronaut, a lawyer, or even a doctor’s wife.
I can say this without any doubt at all,
I will always be there to catch you if you fall.
And another promise I make to you from me,
Daddy’s little angel you will always be.

© Jason A. Hodges  


A gift given from God above is sent to parents, it is a child to love.

Thank You God

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 & nurture and watch him play
To kiss his boo-boo’s all away
To keep him safe and warm & 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 & cherish and watch him grow
To guide and teach him all that I know
To see him through good times & 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
© Shirley J. Stankiewicz   
baby bee

Happiness come to your life in many different forms. It is an everyday occurrence whether we see it or not. Now I share with you my happy moments. This is a poem about my child. The inspiration for this poem and how she takes my breath with every passing moment.Happiness come to your life in many different forms. It is an everyday occurrence whether we see it or not. Now I share with you my happy moments. This is a poem about my child. The inspiration for this poem and how she takes my breath with every passing moment.

I Love You

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 your my sweet honeybee.

© Umanga Wijesena  



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Juxt In Time



Here’s the New Baby-Trimmed Hat

Omaha Daily Bee February 22, 1914:

“Babies throughout the ages have had to undergo being carried in odd places, but the babies of certain Peruvian tribes probably take the prize for having the queerest perambulators. Below the Rio Grande everyone carries everything he or she can upon the head…

The Peruvian mamma, when she wants to take baby out for an airing, takes a basket that looks like an inverted peach basket hat. It is lined comfortable with feathers. In this nest she places the baby, elevates the whole curious nest to her head and takes her walk. The baby is lulled by the slight movements of her walk, much more hygienically than the civilized babies are by the violent cradle rockings…”

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Sweet Dreams

I don’t think there is anything more precious than a sleeping baby.  Which is why I couldn’t resist sharing a few more photos of this cutie pie.

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