Showing posts with label little boy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label little boy. Show all posts

Thursday, November 26, 2020

For Kids and Parents (of all ages)




We make laundry, 


Lots of messes 
Happiness’s 
Finest parts 
We make parents 
Laugh and lament 
We melt popsicles 

And hearts 



We make Ordinary 
Sacred

We make headaches ...

We are loud 
We make parents 
Lose their patience 
We make parents 
Feel so proud 

We make dishes 
And the wishes 
Of mommies 
And daddies come true 
We make noise 
And joys 
And sorrows 
Cause that's what 
Girls and boys do 


We make sticky 
Hugs and kisses 
We make adults 
Children too 
We make everything 
So worth it 
With soft, chubby, 
‘I wuv/love you’ 



Did I mention 
We make messes 
We make parents 
Find their knees 
While we make 
Best Happiness-es 
While we make 
Best Memories 

© Janet Martin 


I wrote this with one on my lap 
Squeezing me with hugs and kisses and one 
Beside me who, after I read 
Part of the poem 
pleaded non-stop 
‘ple-e-e-se may I have a melty popsicle? 
I love melty popsicles, ple-e-e-e-ase! 


Sometimes ya’ just gotta 
Strike while the iron is hot! 

Now let’s see if we have any popsicles! 
Yes!




So they had those while I posted this,
then Little boy climbed back up on my chair
 put his arms around my neck and right now he
is hiccupping loudly in my ear😍😂😇
(must be that popsicle:)




Monday, January 6, 2020

So God Made Little Boys...

I absolutely love listening to our just-turned three-year-old grandson
 belting out 'I waise a hawewoowah'

Dear Grand-sonny, we love all of what makes you...you!
 Pictures are worth a thousand words
Photo credit to c.poot photography

What a happy birthday supper we had😊

Auntie Tor, Daddy and Grandma were present as well...just somehow missed the camera)



He knew we needed exercise
And good reasons to pray
An endless stream of chatter
And the melody of play
Reminders of pure innocence
Sweet naughtiness and noise
To keep us not quite so uptight
So God made little boys

He knew sometimes we would need more
Than words can quite explain
Like splashing through lake- puddles
In or after the rain
Like learning to think bigger
By studying smaller joys
Like digging in the garden-dirt
So God made little boys

He knew we would find freedom
In the teeny ties that bind
Our hearts as chubby fingers tug
Us from chores left behind
For worlds of bugs, slugs, ants and bees
Better than heaps of toys
As we learn on our hands and knees
So He made little boys

…to keep our conscience keener
And our common care more sweet
To make our pastures greener
As we both follow and lead
To make love’s gladness purer
In the sieve of simple joys
God knew we would need laughter
So He made little boys

© Janet Martin




Monday, August 27, 2018

On Kissing Golden Curls and Such

The death of John McCain has fired some fresh for/against political-debate
for some people who enjoy such things.
 "personally", I told hubby on the onset of another such-flavored conversation,
 "I prefer the gentle world of kissing golden curls and such"
(before they have to brave the battle where Bible-based truths and politics war..)
(plus, I just don't have the energy for such discussions after a day of kissing-holding-scolding😊)
When Grandson wanted to get dressed the other morning
I told him he may take his pj's off...
I laughed til I cried as round and round he went trying to pull his foot free...and it would not!

Ah, moments like these make so worthy-the-earthy as well!



Kissing golden curls with love
Fitting small hands into these
Laughing at the antics of
Pirates sailing green-grass seas…
Shores a-buzz with honey-bees

Moments full of joys of boys
Trucks and bugs and hugs times ten
Never mind the mess, the noise
Can’t rewind today again
Soon life turns boys into men

Peek into a petal-porch
Marvel at the color-world
Caught inside a teeny torch
Where the bitty bud uncurled
Glimpse of mighty God unfurled

Kiss those curls, boo-boos and such
Do not fret the Yet, my dear
Life is like a Maestro’s touch
Composing ballads of Year
With the notes of Now and Here

Stop to watch a cloud drift by
Talk to butterflies, walk slow
Peek-a-boo and hush, don’t cry
Kiss those golden curls, for oh
Willing winds of change do blow

© Janet Martin









Thursday, September 21, 2017

Meta-ball-ism

Sometimes I almost stagger beneath the intensity of flashbacks as Time almost repeats itself...
A Glimpse at our celebration of the last day of summer...
(kinda like it used to be when the little ones were my own)


Ball bounces;
Beauty is boyish and boisterous
Curl flounces;
Cutie is girlish and sweet
Mom announces
Time for supper
Door slams,
Floor rings with hymns of bare feet
Time is a dog nipping at their heels
Gladness is knowing how heaven on earth feels
Ball bounces;
Boy is nowhere to be seen
Curl flounces;
Girl is seventeen

© Janet Martin 

 I was looking for an old post of Matt bouncing the basket-ball but I couldn't find it :(
that's the worst thing about this blog, 
even with labels it is sometimes/often impossible to find an oldie!






Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Joy of Boy






Oh, what joy to be a boy
Carefree as the wind that sweeps
Through the woodland while he sleeps

Oh, what bliss sweet boyhood is
Laughter’s magnum opus rings
From sand-castle’s freckled kings

Oh, what worth fills boyish mirth
Treasure without greed or guile
Cheers the mother’s frazzled smile

Oh, what vim composes him
Ambling through blue dream-land’s lake
Leaving love-songs in his wake

World of lost socks, building blocks
Master Mischief's time-out sit
Makes us glad in spite of it

Oh, what joy is little boy
Grappling with life’s yes and no
Manhood’s predecessor, oh

© Janet Martin