Poems about Boys

Boys in my House.....


There are boys in my house – and Spiderman shoes
And 200 shirts in various blues.
There's Bob (he's a builder) and Thomas the Train,
There's a fireman coat to wear in the rain.
They have cars on their shirts and frogs on their hats
There's a glove and a ball and a red plastic bat.
There's dirt on a face and a smudge on a nose;
Grass stains on knees and sand between toes.
There's bathtime at night with bodies to scrub,
And when we're all done there is dirt in the tub!
There's bandaids and bruises and curious bumps,
There's smiles and laughter and sometimes there's grumps.
There's odors most icky; there's boogers so green
There's more yucky things than I'll ever get clean.
There's piles of laundry; there's stories at night;
There's bedtime and bathtime and dinnertime fights.
There's cars and there's trains and there's books about trucks
There's Scoop, Lofty, Dizzy, and Travis, and Muck.
Sometimes there are bugs, and sometimes there are frogs;
Sometimes they are lions, or dinos, or dogs.
There are cute little vests and darling neckties
Dragged right through the mud – oh what a surprise!
There's running and climbing and jumping and falling
And laughing and crying and hugging and brawling
And rolling and losing and finding and creeping
And whining and stealing and sometimes there's sleeping.
There's tantrums and time outs and extra loud noise –
There's love in my house shaped like three little boys.





A little boy needs daddy....

A little boy needs daddy
For many, many things;
Like holding him high off the ground
Where the sunlight sings!

Like being the deep music
That tells him all is right
When he awakens frantic with
The terrors of the night.

Like being the great mountain
That rises in his heart
And shows him how he might get home
When all else falls apart.

Like giving him the love
That is his sea and air,
So diving deep or soaring high
He'll always find him there.


Little Man....


Little Man, just two feet tall,
You're really not a man at all.
And yet you try so hard to be,
Just like the grown-ups that you see.
You want to be like daddy,
and maybe Grandpa too.
You want so, to be big,
And do the things they do.

Well, dream my little man,
and let your mind have wings.
Pretend you are the captain,
of ships and planes and things.
But when the day has ended,
and your make-believe is done.
Come home to where you're loved,
and for awhile just be my son.


Raising Boys.....

I scrub the wall of fingerprints,
Pick up the mounds of clothes.
I sweep the dirt that shoes track in-
Wish I could use a hose!

Meals are served from dawn to dark,
Dirty dishes crowd the sink.
Just when they're washed and put away-
Everyone wants a drink!

The washer pulls the dirty grime
From pants worn thin and patched.
They look so very neat and clean-
Yuck, look what the pockets hatched!

Broken bones and bloody knees,
I should have been a nurse.
I take it all in shaky stride-
Just grateful it's not worse!

Screams and shouts and arguments
Test the keeping of my cool.
They left the faucet on-
See the new front yard pool!

A soothing bath is ecstasy,
A reward at the end of my rope.
Raising boys isn't really bad-
But first I must wash the soap!

A rose can say I Love You,
Orchids can enthrall;
But a weed bouquet in a chubby fist,
Oh my, that says it all!


Unknown Authors