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Poems about Parenting

Awakening

She is sleeping but

Not too many, feed
Her spoons of mashed
Food and vitamins
Bring her close for warmth
...

I Made a Memory Today
The crumbs on my kitchen table didn’t get wiped away today.
The ground turkey I defrosted didn’t get cooked, either.
Summer Album
a pink pop art bathing suit size four hangs on a knob from the kitchen cabinet. its solid little pink terry cover-up hangs on the adjoining cabinet.
Waiting to Meet You
Since my children were born

I have been waiting to meet you...
What Do Babies Dream?
What do babies dream
when they are fast asleep
when eyelids are aflutter
and a smile rounds their cheeks
Separation Anxiety
Deep down, I know it will be okay.
I will be fine.
Yet there is still that separation anxiety.
A funny thing. Not rational....
The Third Generation
The elderly woman
sat by herself
waiting...
for the phone to ring
Holding
I disconnect from the phone cord the house chores the doctors and bills
I hold her for real and remember our dreams
Just to have moment upon moment
Of living
...
Entirety of Mother
A Poem Before Birth
a silent voice to become a breath
a body to be infused with a soul
or a soul wearing its body<
Ode to Mothers Everywhere
I crawl out of bed as the sun slowly rises
I take a deep breath and prepare for surprises
Each morning brings all kinds of interesting news
And there's always a voice asking, "Where are my shoes?"
Where Angels Tread
The following poem was written for my daughter Madison shortly after her birth. Madison was born with Down Syndrome...
My Special Symphony
If it’s a symphony I’m in,
It’s like one I’ve never heard.
For this symphony that plays around me,
Is one that’s quite absurd!
Searches
Shalom, my son, where can I find you?
Hidden in your new black beard, black suit, black hat
Ensconced for the last two of your twenty-five years
In a yeshiva
Deep in Jerusalem
My Child
She is my child
Beginning to paint her dreams
Seeing in her mind's eye
what is heart-felt.
Inside Home
Yellow, gold, warm maple wood
warm, messy, wild,
life, living, loud
struggle of little wills trying to assert understanding and control
This beautiful prayer
my Mother would say
at the end of Shabbat
so many years ago.
Grandson
This is a poem I wrote while witnessing my grandson's birth...