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Shley Sep 2023
Sweet spiced cookies
wafting in my nose.
It draws me to the kitchen
and on my tippy toes.

Mama's made a special treat.
She says it's still too hot to eat.
I can hardly stand the wait!
I bet they'll taste so great.

I hold mama's apron
until she gives me some.
It tastes just like mommy,
and it tastes just like home.
My toddler's little world πŸ’œ
Aparna Aug 2020
π—Œπ—π–Ύ'π—Œ 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖾,
π—Œπ—ˆ π–Ώπ—…π–Ίπ—†π–»π—ˆπ—’π–Ίπ—‡π—
𝖺 π—‡π–Ύπ—ˆπ—‡ π—‹π–Ίπ—‚π—‡π–»π—ˆπ—,
π—Œπ—π–Ύ π—π–Ίπ—Œ
𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒;π–»π—Žπ–»π–»π—…π—’
𝖻𝖺𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒
π—‚π—‡π—Œπ—ˆπ—Žπ–Όπ—‚π–Ίπ—‡π—;
𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗀𝗅𝖾𝖾
𝖺 π—‹π—‚π—ˆπ— π—ˆπ–Ώ π–Όπ—ˆπ—…π—ˆπ—Žπ—‹π—Œ
hey rosy cheeks,
miss being youπŸ₯Ί
Butch Decatoria Jan 2020
Clumsy in Mom's heels,
Curious toddler wanders
Clown-faced, smeared in rouge.
Revised
Dani Dec 2019
There's this weight I carry
It's heavy and exhausting
It's beautiful, and quite daring

It yanks me down more times than I can count
Squeezes, punches, and pushes every last nerve
But it's perfect on every account

It's the hardest, most difficult weight I've ever carried
Full of kicks and screams and fits
But it's something I refuse to burry

I could walk away and live a different life
I could be weightless and free
But this weight is worth more than my own life

So I will pull it up over ranges of mountains
I will piggy back it over every raging sea
And if anyone tries to harm it, I would **** thousands

It's the most precious cargo I could ever own
It's the only I can ever have
So I choose to carry it and to never be alone

For its weight brings me great joy
And the warmth is overwhelming
So I hold tight and hold strong and enjoy

For the terrain will mellow down
And it will not always be this heavy
So this weight I hold with love, and in it I drowne.
Single Parenthood.
mae Nov 2018
He rejected me like
As if I were the vegetables
Mushed together and scattered
Across the play board
At a toddler’s dinner table.
Alek Mielnikow Sep 2018
Giggles from the child as water
runs down her back, matching
the swinging wind chimes just outside
the wide-open window. Her mother
smiles, her shirtsleeves rolled up and
yet wet and covered in tiny bubbles.
The white tile around them glistens
in the sunlight pouring in, and I,
the grinning dad who just got home,
stand in the doorway, softened clay.
My wife, my beautiful wife,
looks up at me and says β€œHey honey,”
and runs another small jug of bathwater
over my baby’s soft head of hair.
The little one trickles out β€œHi Daaaaddy,”
and giggles again, as her mother scrubs
her little back and shoulders. Seeing this
scene in front of me, my eyes water
slightly. I pull it back in; after all
these years it’s still difficult for me to
simply be joyous. Nonetheless, there is
an ache in my heart, the ache one feels
when they first fall in love, and I am standing
here falling all over again. I roll up my sleeves
and drop to my knees, and give my wife
and my sweetie the biggest pecks I can muster,
and clean her delicate little arms. The mother
pours another jug, and once again, this little
darling angel, like wind chimes swinging outside,
giggles.
calvin schafer May 2018
The toddler walks with no grace,
back and forth as he does his waddle.
Sticky somethings upon his face,
happily drinking his bottle.
Once so small wrapped in his swaddle,
looks like mom I can see it clearly,
cute little boy looks like a model.
The one I love so dearly.

The toddler points at his chair,
he knows I understand his need.
I pick him up and put him there,
he knows its time to feed.
I try to help but let him lead,
getting it in his mouth well nearly.
I cant believe this is my seed
the one I love so dearly.

The toddler starts to rub his eyes,
l can almost open my wine.
I sing him gentle lullabies,
I'm thankful that he is mine.
Like an angel he'll always shine,
it is so sad he will grow yearly.
With each step I'll make sure he is fine,
the one I love so dearly.

When he grows up I'll miss the hugs,
I wont wake up so cheerly.
I'll miss him being scared of bugs,
the one I love so dearly.
James Court Apr 2018
drip, drip, drip,
there's a little water dropping from the
sip, sip, sippy cup,
spilling out and sopping in your
lap, lap, lap,
so you stand instead of sitting, so the
wet, wet, wet patch
is drying off (permitting that the
sun, sun, sun
is up high and the sky is clear), you
run, run, run,
to the arms of your mummy dear, and
tap, tap, tap,
on the bottom of your sippy-cup,
drip, drip, drip,
now you'll need your mum to fill it up.
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