Poetry

Stork Bite
He had a stork bite. That glaring red mark. A sign he had battled waves of mighty ocean currents and descended a river of mountains.
We marvelled at his ten tiny toes, his wail that could travel a city block, his ability to magically disappear from the bassinet, nestled with us each morning. His eyes shimmered as if made from stars in the night. One day, he looked deeply into my eyes and licked his lips, I felt I would be swallowed whole.
The minutes turned into hours and hours turned into the light of a shadowy dawn. I drank in his satisfied fullness and eyes like crescent half-moons. The only soul who had heard my heartbeat from the inside lay snuggled asleep, comforted by the sound of my heart from the outside.
By Sharleen Sendjaya-Wu

Beneath the glow of morning’s light, A quiet bond, a tender sight. Extended nursing, a gift we share, A moment of love, beyond compare.

Through toddler steps and playful days, Your need for comfort still gently stays. Not just for hunger, but hearts entwined, A rhythm of care, a love so kind.

Society whispers, “It’s time to part,” But I trust the pull within my heart. For this is ours, no clock can define, A sacred bond, uniquely mine.

With every latch, your world feels safe, A harbor of calm, a mother’s embrace. Not forever, but for now, it’s right, A beacon of love, a guiding light.

So here we are, as time flows on, These fleeting moments will soon be gone. But etched forever in memory’s glow, Our nursing bond will always show.

To love without measure, to nurture, to be, Extended breastfeeding, a journey free. Together we walk this beautiful road, With love as our compass, a treasure bestowed.

Anonymous

The time has come, the quiet shift, A bittersweet and tender rift. My heart feels full, yet aches the same, As I grieve the change that softly came.

Those moments shared, just you and me, A rhythm ancient, wild, and free. A glance, a touch, a calming song, Now memories where we both belong.

Your tiny hands, once reaching near, Found solace in my warmth, my cheer. Now they explore the world so wide, And I must learn to stand aside.

I see your strength, your growing grace, Your independence in every space. But still, I long for that sacred hold, A bond so pure, a love untold.

I grieve, not for what’s lost, but changed, For seasons passed, and life rearranged. Our nursing days, now in the past, A fleeting joy that couldn’t last.

But as you bloom, I see anew, Our love remains, deep and true. For though this chapter’s reached its end, A mother’s heart will always mend.

With every step you take, my dear, I’ll hold our bond forever near. And while I grieve, I also cheer, For you, my love, my baby dear.

By: Y. Cindy

A bib is tied, a spoon in hand, The time has come, it’s something grand! From milk to mush, a brand-new feat, A baby’s world of things to eat.

First comes a taste, a curious stare, A scrunched-up face, a messy affair. Sweet potato? Banana mash? On the high chair, it’s quite the splash!

Tiny fingers reach and grab, Squishy peas, a perfect jab. Carrot purée? Let’s paint the tray! Dinner’s more fun than toys today.

A spoon flies left, a spoon flies right, The dog’s on cleanup duty tonight. Cereal dribbles down the chin, But oh, the giggles—where to begin?

Every bite’s a new surprise, A journey through their curious eyes. From avocado to applesauce, Even if half of it’s still lost!

So here’s to solids, the mess and cheer, A sticky milestone to hold so dear. A foodie in training, the fun’s begun, Bon appétit, little one!

By: Anonymous

The world is hushed, the moon hangs low, A silvery glow, a tender show. In the stillness, where dreams take flight, We share a bond in the quiet night. A sleepy whimper, a rustling sound, Little hands that search, that gently pound. I gather you close, your warmth, your need, A sacred rhythm we softly heed. The stars bear witness, their gentle gaze, To this ancient rite, this nurturing phase. No words are spoken, none are required, Just love’s embrace, unspoken, inspired. Your eyes flutter closed, your breath grows deep, A tender lull as the world falls asleep. Yet I stay awake, this moment mine, A fleeting treasure, a thread through time. In these quiet hours, no rush, no race, Just your sweet contentment, your peaceful face. The weight of the day melts into the dark, Replaced by this spark, this motherly arc. Though the nights are long and sleep feels rare, There’s beauty in this, the love we share. For these midnight calls, though fleeting they be, Are whispers of forever between you and me. So let the night stretch, let the hours creep, I’ll hold you close, my promise to keep. For this is the dance, our lullaby, A moment so pure under the starry sky. When someday you sleep through the night on your own, And my arms long for the weight they’ve known, I’ll remember these hours, these moonlit charms, The midnight nursing, your peace in my arms.

By: Layla Sheppard

The room stood still, yet the world had turned, In that instant, a fire within me burned. The air was thick with a sacred grace, As I gazed upon your tiny face.

A cry, a breath, a life so new, The bond of time, a thread we drew. Your fingers curled, your chest so small, Yet in your being, I felt it all.

The weight of you, warm on my chest, A beating heart, a soul at rest. Eyes unopened, yet somehow you knew, That I was yours, and you were mine too.

Your skin so soft, your hair like down, A miracle wrapped in love's own crown. The world outside could fade away, For in your presence, I chose to stay.

Each tiny toe, each fragile limb, The fullness of love spilled from within. No words could capture, no thought contain, The depth of joy, the sweet refrain.

The hours melted, time bent and swayed, As I marveled at the life we’d made. Your breath was music, your warmth was light, Guiding me through that wondrous night.

You were so small, yet you filled the air, With a presence vast, beyond compare. The strength of mountains, the depth of seas, Were nothing compared to moments like these.

Now etched in my soul, this memory stays, A beacon of love for all my days. The first time I saw you, the first time I knew, The world was forever brighter with you.

By: Anonymous

I watch you now, so tall, so grown, A life unfolding, your strength your own. But in your shadow, I still can see, The little one you’ll always be.

Your laughter echoes, deep and strong, A voice that carries where you belong. Yet somewhere in its joyous sound, I hear the giggles that once astound.

Your hands, now steady, skilled, and sure, Once reached for mine, so soft, so pure. They built with blocks, they grasped with care, Now they wave goodbye, they take you elsewhere.

Those eyes, once wide with innocent glee, Now hold the dreams of who you’ll be. But still, at times, I catch a trace, Of the toddler’s wonder, etched in your face.

I see you run, I see you strive, So full of purpose, so fully alive. But in your stride, I catch a blur, Of chubby legs that would barely stir.

You’ve grown so much, and I stand amazed, At the person you’ve become these days. Yet through it all, one truth remains, My baby you’ll be, through joys and pains.

For time may shift, and years may fly, But in my heart, you’ll never die. That tiny hand, that sleepy grin, Will live forever, deep within.

So go, my love, and take your flight, Shine in the world, be your own light. But know, whenever I see your face, I’ll see my baby in its place.

By: Anonymous

I see you there, a gentle glow, A strength within you I’ve come to know. The baby in your arms so small, Yet in your care, I see it all.

The years rush back, a tender haze, To lullabies and toddler days. I held you once as you now hold, The story of love both new and old.

Your hands, once tiny, now cradle with grace, Your eyes, once curious, now light this place. I see my reflection, a younger me, In the way you soothe so effortlessly.

Each coo, each cry, each sleepless night, You step into motherhood’s endless light. With every smile, with every tear, You’re writing a story, one precious and clear.

And while you mother, I stand near, A witness to this joy sincere. My daughter, now a mother too, A role so vast, so wholly true.

I marvel at your tender might, The way you love, the way you fight. To nurture, protect, to give your all, To catch your baby when they fall.

Yet even as I watch you grow, I hope you always, always know: Though you are now a mother divine, You’ll forever be this mother’s child, mine.

So here I stand, my heart ablaze, In awe of you and these precious days. For in your arms, life’s greatest art, I see my granddaughter—and your heart.

By: Anonymous

Now that you’re a Mum
There’s such a lot to learn
When to feed, how to feed
We’ll cover each in turn

Baby shows the signs
By turning of her head
Sucking fingers, licking lips
She’s asking to be fed
Time to unwrap
Bring her ‘chest to chest’
A few simple steps will see
Her feeding at the breast

Comfort for the Mum
Whatever hold you use
Cradle, clutch, lying down
‘Tis for you to choose
Back and feet supported
A comfy bed or chair
You can feed anytime
And feed anywhere

Pause and take a look
At where your nipple’s found
Bring baby to the breast
Ne’er t’other way ‘round
Shape the breast as needed
Align nipple and nose
Tease her mouth to open
And then on she goes!

How to tell she’s on quite well
Check her nose is clear
Chin applied, mouth full and wide
And held close and near
When you see these things
And the joy it brings
With head and neck in line
She’s on quite well and you can tell
The hold and latch are fine

Perhaps a little daunting
You’ve read lots of books
Learning how to latch Is harder than it looks.
Practicing the skill
Persist and it will come
A new beginning lies ahead
Now that you’re a Mum!

A poem by Edwina Smith

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Mother, oh mother, come shake out your cloth!
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking!

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby, loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo.)

Oh, cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
But children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs.
Dust, go to sleep. I’m rocking my baby. Babies don’t keep.