Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Twinkle, twinkle little star,
up in the heaven is where you are,
flying high & twinkling bright,
my guiding star,
my shining light,
Twinkle, twinkle little star,
my perfect angle is what you are.

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

 

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The Death of Baby Blue – Baby Death Peom

Baby Blue
I sure am missing you
Wishing I was kissing you
Holding you like I used to do
Whispering in your ear things I have kept silent for years
Sharing the laughter and all the tears
Telling Hopes and dreams that we held so dear
Feelings we had for each other that we painted so crystal clear
But now you are no longer here.. to hear or share them.

You left in rush, keeping your last words all hushed
My laughter no longer soothed your heart
The tears we shed together drowned us
Those once sweet whispers became the forceful winds of change tearing us apart
The hopes and dreams just seemed turned in to dust
Love and trust left us ,
The Tears mixed with the lust for blood
leaving nothing but pools of mud which sticks like **** on a blanket
Now all I have left to remind me of you
is a pitiful picture in my head
And a deep scar upon my heart and a little wooden cross that I made that fatal day ..and a plaque in my garden that reads
Baby Blue is DEAD ..and I’ll always, forever from now on
be missing you.

Most Precious Dear Loving Mother – Child Grief Poems

I need to publish this poem
For all the world to read
I know there are many out there
Who feel this kind of grief.

Perhaps they ask those questions of guilt
The ones with which we now must deal
Hoping we get all the right answers
The ones that will help our hearts to heal.

I held her hand and spoke softly
As she slowly faded away
The things I prayed she needed
To once again hear me say.

Most precious, dear loving, Mother
We’ll be together, again some-day.

I told her I will ‘always’ remember
The many times she pulled me through
That I couldn’t have made it without her
I prayed she would know I was speaking the truth.

I didn’t want to give her up
I needed her here, with me still
But I wouldn’t try to hold her back
For the Father, had spoken His Will.

Her eyes were closed for sometime now
Her breathing, so shallow
I could feel the weight, in my chest
As I spoke the last words to her
I could only watch, as she took her last breath.

My tears are still flowing
The heartache refuses to go away
But I know we’ll be united in Heaven
And never more to stray.

I held her hand and spoke softly
As she slowly faded away
Most precious, dear loving, Mother
We’ll be together, again someday.
(By Wanda S. Collier)

The Ninth Pallbearer – Child Grief Poem

It was so sad,
With a tear in every eye,
To see this little lad,
We had all came to say goodbye,
The day they buried his Dad.

By his young bride,
She had chosen eight,
To assist in her husband’s final ride,
Heaven had called him, aged almost
twenty eight.

This little lad,
His only son, aged seven,
So very sad,
There to send his Dad’s body to heaven.

This we know is true,
For this soul so very new,
Taken before his time,
For no apparent reason or rhyme.

This promise kept,
As the family wept,
Life is eternal,
As written in God’s Journal.

The courage of this lad,
Even him so very sad,
Yes, his courage makes one glad.
The day they buried his Dad.

His mother had chosen,
Brave men, eight,
With others in sadness frozen,
Stepped the bravest so his Dad would
not be late.

With four on each side,
Came this little boy,
For him there was no joy,
For his Dad was on his final ride.

At the lead,
Came this lad with courage,
To carry his Dad,
During this sad entourage.

I will not lie,
For put a tear in my eye,
To see this little guy,
Who was trying not to cry.

His Mom picked eight,
For with the Lord his Dad had a date,
But with his sure gate,
His Dad surely would not be late.

With the Lord his Dad had to dine,
This Pallbearer number nine,
This Grandson of mine,
With courage divine.
(By Dale E. Harmo)

A Child’s Grief – Sympathy Poem

Lord you care so much
For the tears of a hurting child
Who has felt the grief of tragedy
Now no longer wears a smile

Unable to clearly express
How much he’s hurting inside
Not fully understanding the pain
Nor knowing the reasons ‘why’

He wants so much to reach out
To someone who will listen
Someone that can hold him close
And respond with godly wisdom

For he just needs a grown up
To know what he’s going through
But often we don’t realize his grief
Because we are hurting too

Let him know you care Lord
And will be there when we’re not
The emptiness he feels within
May be filled with you oh God

May he know you as a father
And know you’re by his side
To come and wipe his tears away
When alone he silently cries

Hold him in your arms Lord
So he will be at peace
Allow us all to give him time
In dealing with his grief

For tears may last all night
But joy comes in the morning
So let him grieve throughout the night
For a new day will be dawning.
(By M.S. Lowndes)

My Mothers Hair – Child’s Grief Poems

One of your hairs fell out last night:
A piece of your life was gone without a sound.
I know a difficult day is coming,
My heart, pierced, utters a quiet cry.

Let my childhood smile againin the sun
And turn me into an innocent little headlouse
So I can crawl through the jungle of your hair
And sing a song of darkness in its fragrance.

Under your fingernail-roof Ill sleep in my house;
In my black dream Ill water your black trees.
Ill pick black fruits, and hair-jungle bees
Will bring me black poems to be opened.

How will I live, without your hair?
How will I breathe, without its fragrance?
How will I survive, when I am discovered
By ghosts of wooden combs combing your hair?

Let me wear shows made of dawn-flowers
And crawl without a sound into your sleep.
Ill take the place of the hair thats gone
And sing of hair-clouds flying from night to day.
(By Nguyen Quang Thieu)

My Mother on Her Sickbed – Child’s Grief Poems

My mother on her sickbed with the lightness
and hollowness of a person
Who has already said goodbye at an airport
In the beautiful and quiet area
Between parting and takeoff.

My mother on her sickbed.
All she had in her life is now
Like empty bottles in front of the door
That will show once more with colored labels
What filled them with joy and sadness.

Her last words, Take the flowers out of the room,
She said seven days before her death,
Then she closed herself for seven days,
Like the seven days of mourning.

But even her death created in her room
A warm hominess
With her sleeping face and the cup with its teaspoon
And the towel and the book and the glasses,
And her hand on the blanket, the same
hand that felt my forehead, in childhood.
(By Yehuda Amichai)

Long Distance II – Child’s Grief Poems

Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.

You couldn’t just drop in. You had to phone.
He’d put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.

He couldn’t risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he’d hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she’d just popped out to get the tea.

I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven’t both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there’s your name
and the disconnected number I still call.
(By Tony Harrison)