Thanks to our photographers and poets who participated in last week’s Baby Face Photo Prompts. We were inspired by the collection of photographs and poetry, steeped in back story. Along with a few snapshots, here’s a recent poem from Sharon we enjoyed:
Little one so tiny and new
We’ve been waiting just for you
And now that you’re with us, we want you to know
Little one… You’re home
There will be time for tears later on
So close your eyes now and sleep ‘til the dawn
Together we’ll travel, together we’ll grow
So Little one… Sleep on
In your heart God’s written a song
All about you and how you belong
And no one can sing it exactly like you
So little one… Sing on
Your on special dreams are waiting for you
Don’t let the world tell you dreams can’t come true
For you are the weaver of life’s tapestry
So little one… Weave on
Little one so tiny and new
We’ve been waiting just for you
And now that you’re with us, we want you to know
Little one
My little one
Sweet little one… You’re home
—by Sharon Riddell
Be sure to check out the rest of our favorite highlights from each participant on the Photo Play Pinterest board. And keep clicking and/or playing with words.
NOTE TO POETS: Looking for your Monday prompt? On Photo Play days, it’s right here. Choose a photo and use it to jump start a poem! Post it in the comment box. We’ll be reading.
Featured photos by S. Etole and Simply Darlene. Post by Heather Eure.
____________________
Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!
Browse more photo prompts
Browse Baby Poems
Browse more writing prompts
Richard Maxson says
Great photos! And Sharon, this is a perfect lullaby.
SimplyDarlene says
I only have a few keepsakes from my babyhood so those little boots (the exact ones from the image) are a treasure!
Somehow I ended up with my little sister’s pair too… probably because she’d never wear a pair of kickers these days. 😉
Thanks for the prompt!
S. Etole says
Just happened across this this morning. Adding my thanks.
Richard Maxson says
This is not a photograph of me, but suits the poem. I captured it from a composite You Tube
http://tinyurl.com/ofm4nmk
Of No One
As children, it was real to us,
the timing, length and hue.
Once discovered we forgot to notice
the changing shape
going out ahead of us,
as if to say—arms around each other—
we are three.
Over time it was only shade,
cloudy days and ruined picnics,
a slice across a silver moon.
It was the dark mirror
that confirmed us,
even as we forgot to look
along the avenues,
living under a borrowed sun;
perhaps when we are also grey.
Tonight we say there is work to do,
or a rough day to mend―
through the window, the empty moon
lays the ineffectual sunlight
into this room of candles,
where I write alone.
My hand reaches for a glass
and below a darkness
on the table cowers close,
as if it were afraid.
gassingon says
Baby face wore his boots
until they hurt his feet
so he kicked them off
and walked around
in his stocking feet…