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Precious Newborn Poems

My-Newborn-Baby-Care.com has included this page of "newborn poems" for your use and enjoyment. These newborn baby poems express in words those innermost feelings we often have in the presence of a baby...and yet struggle to effectively communicate! Perhaps these gifted poets have conveyed your sentiments exactly!

“You have a lifetime to work, but children are only young once.”
--Polish Proverb

While it is true that these newborn poems tend to focus on the baby, there is also given great appreciation to those that care for the newborn. Poems relating to mothers are a natural inclusion into this page. The beauty of poetry will find few applications more suitable than this theme of a mother and her newborn baby!

Whether seeking the right words to share in a gift, or desiring to pause and reflect upon the blessings of your own...Invest a few moments in the reading of these poems. There are very informative and instructive helps throughout the other pages of this website relating to newborn baby care, but we do also encourage you make proper time for the expressive care of your heart and mind!

Newborn baby

Babies Don't Keep
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 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).
The cleaning and scrubbing
will wait till tomorrow,
for Children grow up,
as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs.
Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep!
~Author Unknown ~

Beautiful Hands
Such beautiful, beautiful hands,
They're neither white nor small;
And you, I know, would scarcely think
That they were fair at all.
I've looked on hands whose form and hue
A sculptor's dream might be,
Yet are these agéd wrinkled hands
Most beautiful to me.
Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
Though heart were weary and sad
These patient hands kept toiling on
That the children might be glad.
I almost weep when looking back
To childhood's distant day!
I think how these hands rested not
When mine were at their play.
Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
They're growing feeble now,
And time and pain have left their mark
On hand, and heart and brow.
Alas! alas! the nearing time--
And the sad, sad day to me,
When 'neath the daisies, out of sight,
These hands must folded be.
But, oh! beyond the shadowy lands,
Where all is bright and fair,
I know full well these dear old hands
Will palms of victory bear;
When crystal streams, through endless years,
Flow over golden sands,
And where the old are young again,
I'll clasp my mother's hands.
~Emma M. H. Gates~

The Baby
Where did you come from baby dear?
Out of the everywhere into here.
Where did you get those eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.
What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
Some of the starry spikes left in.
Where did you get that little tear?
I found it waiting when I got here.
What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
A soft hand stroked it as I went by.
What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
I saw something better than any one knows.
Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.
Where did you get this pearly ear?
God spoke, and it came out to hear.
Where did you get those arms and hands?
Love made itself into bonds and bands.
Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as the cherub's wings.
How did they all just come to be you?
God thought about me, and so I grew.
But how did you come to us, you dear?
God thought about you, and so I am here.
~George Macdonald~

Six Weeks Old
He is so small he does not know
The summer sun, the winter snow;
The spring that ebbs and comes again,
All this is far beyond his ken.
A little world he feels and sees:
His mother's arms, his mother's knees;
He hides his face against her breast,
And does not care to learn the rest.
~Christopher Morley~

Babies Come Into This World
Babies come into the world brand new.
They have no preconceived notions of
bottles and you.
Expecting love and giving it back,
These little Angels see nothing you lack.
They don't know when you're wondering if
what you're doing is right.
Happiness comes from having you in sight.
Don't worry your skills are shaky and new;
Your baby just wants you to be you.
Feedings and diapers and car seats won't last;
The love that you show to your child says it best.
Take care of this little gift from above,
and everything is seen through her and your love.
~Author Unknown~

The Hand That Rocks the Cradle is the Hand That Rules the World
Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow--
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky--
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
~William Ross Wallace~

From out the front of being, undefiled,
A life hath been upheaved with struggle and pain;
Safe in her arms a mother holds again
That dearest miracle--a new-born child.
To moans of anguish terrible and wild--
As shrieks the night-wind through an ill-shut pane--
Pure heaven succeeds; and after fiery strain
Victorious woman smiles serenely mild.

Yea, shall she not rejoice, shall not her frame
Thrill with a mystic rapture! At this birth,
The soul now kindled by her vital flame
May it not prove a gift of priceless worth?
Some saviour of his kind whose starry fame
Shall bring a brightness to the darkened earth.
~Mathilde Blind~

A Baby
Why speak of Rajah rubies,
And roses of the South?
I know a sweeter crimson--
A baby's mouth.

Why speak of Sultan sapphires
And violet seas and skies?
I know a lovelier azure--
A baby's eyes.

Go seek the wide world over!
Search every land and mart!
You 'll never find a pearl like this--
A baby's heart.
~Madison Julius Cawein~

We hope you found pleasure in considering these newborn poems and poems related to motherhood. You might also consider the related pages listed below as you venture to find similar ideas in quotes, questions, and verses.

See Related Articles

Delightful Newborn Quotes

Baby Quotes, Questions, Verses, and Poems

Biblical Quotes About Children

A Lighter Look at Newborn Baby Questions

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