33 Baby Poems

Popular Short Poems About Babies:

13. Baby
    Poet: Althea Randolph
    
    The birds sing sweeter,
    Since our Baby's birth;
    The buds bloom brighter,
    Fairer is the Earth!
    
    If we should weigh our Baby,
    The weight could ne'er be told;
    For the substance of our Baby
    Is in Love - and not in gold!




14. Babies Are
    Poet: Catherine Pulsifer, ©2012
    
    Babies are a gift.
    Each with their own uniqueness.
    So cuddly and small
    It is hard to believe that they will crawl.
    
    Happiness is what they bring
    Even with all the babbling
    They grow so fast
    A baby they won't last.
    
    Cooing and smiling
    Wetting the bedding
    Eating and sleeping
    Whatever they do we are cheering.
    
    Even the most aged
    See a baby and they are engaged
    Babies melt our heart
    They truly are a work of God's art.




Poems About Grandchildren



15. A Year Of Babies
    Poet: Althea Randolph
    
    January Babies grow
    As pretty, pure and white as snow!
    
    February Babies, next,
    Have "Kindness" for their daily text!
    
    Babies born in bleak March gale,
    Are healthy, happy, strong and hale!
    
    April Babies sometimes cry,
    To help the flowers grow by and by!
    
    Babies born in May are sweet.
    As blossoms pink, from head to feet!
    
    Babies born in June prove true,
    And make the world a bower for you!
    
    July Babies romp and run,
    And revel in the noon-day sun!
    
    August Babies sleep away
    The sultry hours of summer's day!
    
    September Babies watch the sky.
    And sing a twilight lullaby!
    
    October Babies weave gay wreaths
    Of smiles and autumn's golden leaves!
    
    November Babies dance and play,
    And chase away the clouds of gray!
    
    December Babies loving are
    With eyes that sparkle like a star!




16. Wee Babies
    by Gov. F. W. Pitkin
    
    Babies short and babies tall,
    Babies big and babies small,
    Blue-eyed babies, babies fair,
    Brown-eyed babies with lots of hair.
    Babies so tiny they can't sit up.
    Babies that drink from a silver cup.
    Babies that coo and babies that creep,
    Babies that only can eat and sleep.
    Babies that laugh and babies that talk,
    Babies quite big enough to walk.
    Dimpled fingers and dimpled feet,
    What in the world is half so sweet
    As babies that jump, laugh, cry and crawl,
    Eat, sleep, talk, walk, creep, coo and all
    Wee Babies




17. Baby Fingers
    Poet: Mrs. Richard Grant White
    
    Ten fat little fingers, so taper and neat,
    Ten fat little fingers, so rosy and sweet,
    Eagerly reaching for all that comes near,
    Now poking your eyes out, now pulling your hair,
    Smoothing and patting, with velvet-like touch,
    Then digging your cheeks with a mischievous clutch;
    Gently waving good-bye with infantine grace,
    Then dragging your bonnet down over your face;
    Beating pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, slow and sedate,
    Then tearing a book at a furious rate;
    
    Then thumping the window with tightly closed fist;
    Now lying asleep, all dimpled and warm,
    On the white cradle-pillow, secure from all harm —
    Oh, dear baby hands! how much love you enfold
    In the weak, careless clasp of those fingers' soft hold!
    Keep spotless, as now, through the world's evil ways,
    And bless, with fond care, our last weariful days.
    




Children Quotes




18. Prayer For A New Baby
    Poet: Anne Spring
    
    We are grateful for the new being
    Who is small in body but great in soul,
    Who has come into our midst as a gift.
    
    May we be sensitive to the Scared
    As we nurture and learn from this child.
    Give us patience. Give us strength.
    
    And grant us wisdom and love to help this child
    Learn to sing his own song.
    




Quotes About Babies




19. A Cradle Song
    Poet: 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, dove-like sighs.
    Chase not slumber from thy eyes.
    Sweet moans, sweeter smiles.
    All the dove-like moans beguiles.
    
    Sleep, sleep, happy child,
    All creation slept and smiled;
    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 and earth to peace beguiles.
    




Grandparents Poems



20. True Love
    Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
    
    A precious bundle of joy,
    So small and so sweet -
    The parents' hearts filled with love,
    Their happiness is complete.
    
    Tears of sheer joy
    At their first sight of this infant,
    The grandparents are overjoyed beyond belief.
    It was true love in the first instant.




21. Button Nose
    Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
    
    Babies are truly loved by all
    People think they look like a doll
    But when those eyes open wide
    Mom and Dad are full of pride.
    
    So very soft those chubby cheeks
    We goo and gau as we speak
    We hold their tiny hand
    Oh, we think babies are so grand.
    
    As we hold the tiny thing
    We just cuddle and want to sing
    We count their fingers and their toes
    And kiss that little button nose!




22. Why
    Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
    
    Why does a baby make us smile,
    Is it because we feel they are so worthwhile?
    Why does a baby melt a heart,
    Is it because we feel it is a new start?
    
    I think we all know deep in our heart
    That babies are from God and give a fresh start
    Miracles are seen when a baby is arrives
    They fill us with love and change our lives!
    




23. Baby Face
    Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
    
    Babies make us do silly things
    Make funny faces to make them grin
    We talk and we coo
    We even call them boo-boo.
    
    Happily, we change many things
    So much love a baby brings
    We cater to their every whim
    Even the diapers, that can be so grim.
    
    Even the toughest guy
    Will rock a baby when they cry.
    And children love little babies too.
    With babies, we act a little cuckoo
    
    Despite all the changes babies do bring
    To our lives, they bring the best thing.
    The world would be an awful place
    If we didn't see a little baby face.
    




24. Harvest Slumber Song
    Poet: William Wilfred Campbell
    
    Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep,
    Red is the moon in the night's still deep,
    White are the stars with their silver wings
    Folded in dreamings of beautiful things,
    And over their cradle the night wind sings,
    
    Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep.
    Soft in the lap of the mother night
    The wee baby stars, all glowing and bright,
    Flutter their silver wings and crow
    To the watchful winds that kiss as they blow lo
    Round the air-cradle that swings so low
    Down in the lap of the mother night.
    
    Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep.
    Red is the moon in the night's still deep.
    And the wee baby stars are all folded and kissed
    In a luminous cradle of silver mist;
    And if ever they waken the winds cry, Whist,
    Sleep, little baby, sleep, sleep, sleep.




25. Baby
    Poet: Eloise A Skimings
    
    Rosy dimpled cheeks and chin
    Has our baby.
    How it loves our smiles to win,
    Pretty baby.
    Laughs loud when our pet bird sings,
    Does our baby,
    And clasps its hands, chubby things,
    Sweetest baby.
    Tries to walk across the why,
    Clever baby.
    Kisses its hands, when we say,
    "Good bye, baby."




26. Mommy's Sleepy Boo
    Poet: Julie Hebert, ©2011
    
    So tired you are,
    Eyes and nose red.
    Tears gloss your eyes,
    Time to lay down your head.
    
    Here now take teddy,
    Hold him tight.
    Close those eyes,
    So all will be out of sight.
    
    Dream wonderful dreams,
    Of princesses and ponies.
    May they bring you happy thoughts,
    And help you sleep till morning.
    
    And when you awake,
    May happiness come over you.
    Mommy will be waiting,
    To hug and kiss you, Good morning.




27. Cradle Hymn
    Poet: George Withers
    
    Sweet baby, sleep! what ails my dear?
    What ails my darling thus to cry?
    Be still, my child, and lend thine ear
    To hear me sing thy lullaby:
    My pretty lamb, forbear to weep.
    Be still, my dear; sweet baby, sleep.
    
    Thou blessed soul, what canst thou fear?
    What thing to thee can mischief do?
    Thy God is now thy Father dear.
    His holy Church thy mother too;
    Sweet baby, then forbear to weep.
    Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
    
    Whilst thus thy lullaby I sing,
    For thee great blessings ripening be;
    Thine eldest Brother is a King,
    And hath a kingdom bought for thee;
    Sweet baby, then for ear to weep.
    Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
    
    Sweet baby, sleep, and nothing fear,
    For whosoever thee offends
    By thy Protector threatened are,
    And God and angels are thy friends;
    Sweet baby, then forbear to weep.
    Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.




28. Baby's Likeness!
    Poet: Althea Randolph
    
    Mother says she looks like Father!
    Father says she's just like me!
    Grandma thinks her quite like Mother;
    But with them I don't agree!
    
    For I think she's like my Brother!
    Brother says 'tis Uncle Joe
    Whom our Baby so resembles,
    But Aunt Till declares, ''Oh, no!"
    
    'Cause my Uncle's eyes are hazel.
    While our Baby's eyes are blue;
    Uncle has no pretty dimples,
    Like our little Baby's two!
    
    Father's Sister says the Darling
    Is the image of herself!
    And Nurse Mary says, "My Baby
    Looks just like a Fairy Elf!"
    
    Now Miss Jones, my music-teacher.
    Thinks she's like my Cousin Wynn,
    While our next-door neighbor fancies
    She's more like the other twin!
    
    So I've come to this conclusion.
    That there's not a single one
    Whom our Baby truly looks like, -
    No one's daughter, - no one's son! -
    All the members of our family
    Have brown hair, - both small and big;
    Grandma says our Babe inherits
    Red hair from Great Grandpa's wig!




29. For A Very Little Boy
    Poet: Edmund Leamy
    
    Your eyes are sea-blue, and they hold
    New visions they will not unfold.
    
    You laugh and cry and sleep and play
    And eat and croon each lazy day.
    
    Your hours are dreams and happiness,
    And life, your mother’s warm caress.
    
    You know not ’neath the singing skies
    Are hurt tears and shame and lies.
    
    You think ’tis Heaven you are in.
    You know not trouble, care, nor sin.
    
    Oh, Baby, may you never know
    The sordid things, the mean, the low.
    
    But should they come, the things we dread,
    Then — God’s own blessing on your head.




30. Babyhood
    Poet: Josiah Gilbert Holland
    
    What is the little one thinking about
    Very wonderful things, no doubt!
    Unwritten history!
    Unfathomed mystery!
    Yet chuckles and crows and nods and winks,
    As if his head were as full of kinks
    And curious riddles as any sphinx.
    Warped by colic and wet by tears,
    Punctured by pins and tortured by fears,
    Our little nephew will lose two years;
    And he'll never know
    Where the summers go -
    He need not laugh, for he'll find it so.
    
    Who can tell what a baby thinks?
    Who can follow the gossamer links
    By which the manikin feels his way
    from the shore of the great unknown.
    Blind and wailing, and alone,
    Into the light of day?
    Out from the shore of the unknown sea,
    Tossing in pitiful agony -
    Of the unknown sea that reels and rolls,
    Specked with the barks of little souls -
    Barks that were launched on the other side,
    And slipped from heaven on an ebbing tide!
    
    What does he think of his mother's eyes?
    What does he think of his mother's hair?
    What of the cradle roof that flies
    Forward and backward through the air?
    What does he think of his mother's breast,
    Bare and beautiful, smooth, and white,
    Seeking it ever with fresh delight -
    Cup of his life and couch of his rest?
    What does he think when her quick embrace
    Presses his hand and buries his face
    Deep where the heart throbs sink and swell
    With a tenderness she can never tell,
    Though she murmur the words
    Of all the birds
    Words she has learned to murmur well?
    
    Now he thinks he'll go to sleep!
    I can see the shadow creep
    Over his eyes in soft eclipse,
    Over his brow and over his lips,
    Out to his little finger-tips!
    Softly sinking down he goes!
    Down he goes! down he goes!
    See! he is hushed in sweet repose!




31. Good Night!
    Poets: Ann and Jane Taylor
    
    Little baby, lay your head
    On your pretty cradle-bed;
    Shut your eye-peeps, now the day
    And the light are gone away;
    All the clothes are tucked in tight;
    Little baby dear, good night.
    
    Yes, my darling, well I know
    How the bitter wind doth blow;
    And the winter's snow and rain
    Patter on the window-pane:
    But they cannot come in here,
    To my little baby dear.
    
    For the window shutteth fast,
    Till the stormy night is past;
    And the curtains warm are spread
    Round about her cradle-bed:
    So till morning shineth bright
    Little baby dear, good night!




32. Tidings
    Poet: J. B. Smith
    
    A baby is coming!
    Coming to me!
    A man-child, or maid-child,
    O which shall it be?
    For which does my heart cry
    In its lone, childless needs,
    For strength, or for tenderness,
    Which supersedes?
    
    I know not, I list not!
    Coming to me,
    A man-child, a maid-child,
    God's will, it shall be.
    'Twas He heard my deep cry
    For this sweet, precious boon,
    Bring strength, or bring tenderness,
    Joy cometh soon.
    
    A baby is coming!
    Coming to me!
    A man-child, or maid-child,
    Whichever thou mayst be,
    Maternity's rich love
    Is waiting for thee.
    Then come, O heart beautiful!
    Hasten to me.




33. Only A Baby
    Poet: 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 there only a baby.