Home Life Poems for Cards and Scrapbooks

"The Home I Love"

Some homes are quiet, polished, neat
But one I know is far more sweet
Where tiny smudges on the wall
Tell of fingers dear and small.
Where toys are sometimes strewn about
And doors are banging in and out.
Where little children play and sing,
And laughter's often heard to ring...
The home I love is filled with noise
Of happy little girls and boys!
- Kay Hoffman

Author: Kay Hoffman Submitted by: alwayschar

A Child

A child,
like
a ball of dough,
must be raised to
achieve success.

Author: Mac McGovern Submitted by: macmcgovern

A Family Of Friends

Author Unknown
Submitted by Heather Haas 08-03-01.

You'll find there's a family of friends living here,
a small group of minds, and hearts;
With some of us clever and some of us not,
At times you can't tell us apart.

There's one who is cranky, and one who is shy,
And one who is really uncouth;
And just when you think you have discovered who's who,
You'll really uncover the truth.

The truth that we're all just a little of each,
A group of imperfects are we
And sometimes I might criticize them to you,
But don't ever knock them to me.

'Cause the one thing that ties us together for life-
no matter how far we're apart,
Is love for each other, a family of friends
A small group of minds, and of hearts.

An Alcoholic Father

"You'll never make it without me."
"They'll always be better than you."
Are these the kind of things,
Your father should say to you?
Put-downs and insults
From a beer-stained voice.
I'm not going to be oppressed by you,
I'll make it my choice.
You're the one with the problem,
And its YOUR life you need to fix.
I'm just another easy victim
You feel empowered to have in your grip.
This is the end of the line,
Either you get help or we're gone.
No more excuses, no more lies,
And no one else to bully on.

Author: Katy Steimling(KatyBob) Submitted by: KatyBob

Bed In Summer

by Robert Louis Stevenson

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

Bedtime

by Kate Cox Goddard

Sometimes when I get into bed,
And cannot go to sleep,
And after all my prayers are said,
And I have counted sheep,
I call to Mother, and I say:
"A drink of water, please."
She knows that I'm not thirsty,
and only want to tease.
And so I laugh when she comes in
And opens wide the door,
She knows I only want to kiss
And hug her just once more.

Bedtime

Author Unknown

Five minutes, five minutes more, please!
Let me stay five minutes more!
Can't I just finish the castle
I'm building on the floor?
Can't I just finish this beadchain
It's almost finished, look!
Can't I just finish this game, please?

Bedtime Giggles

Author Unknown

Why is it when it's time for bed
The queerest thoughts run through my head.
Each funny bone inside me wiggles,
And makes me get the bedtime giggles.
And mother says, "there's no excuse
For acting like a silly goose."
I guess my mother's right at that,
I wonder what I'm laughing at!

Bless This House

by Helen Taylor

Bless this house,
O Lord, we pray,
Make it safe by night and day…
Bless the roof and chimneys tall,
Let thy peace lie over all;
Bless this door,
that it may prove
Ever open to joy and love.

BLESSED TO BE A MOTHER

BLESSED TO BE A MOTHER


I could have been a major -

but I chose to be a mother.

I used to make a living -

but now I'm making lives.

I've traded airmen's salutes

for children's hugs and kisses.

Instead of giving orders -

I'm giving all I am.

Thank you, Lord,

for the privilege of being a mother.

Author: By Cynthia Flanagan Submitted by: ClassiclyAmber

Blow Gently

Blow gentle, wind, around this house;
May happiness dwell here,
For these four walls contain the sum
Of all whom we hold dear.

May those who sit around our fire
Forget their load of care,
Rekindle dreams of heart's desires
As peace and joy they share.

Blow gently, winds; fall softly, rain,
And may a kind sun glow
And songbirds sing a sweet refrain;
May love and wisdom grow.

Author: Unknown Submitted by: Tiphini

Deedle, Deedle, Dumpling

A Nursery Rhyme

Deedle, deedle, dumpling,
My son John
Went to bed
With his stockings on--
One shoe off
And one shoe on--
Deedle, deedle, dumpling,
My son John.

Excuse This House

Some houses try to hide the fact
That children shelter there,
Ours boasts it quite openly,
The signs are everywhere.

For smears are on the windows,
Little smudges are on the doors
I should apologize, I guess
For toys strew on the floor.

But I sat down with my child
And we played and laughed and read
And if the doorbell doesn’t shine,
His eyes will shine instead.

For when at times I’m forced to choose
The one job or the other,
I’d like to cook and clean and scrub,
But first I’ll be a mother.

Author: Unknown Submitted by: Kahtain

EXCUSE THIS HOUSE

Some houses try to hide the fact
That children shelter there;
Ours boasts of it quite openly,
The signs are everywhere.
For smears are on the windows,
Little smudges on the doors;
I should apologize, I guess,
For toys strewn on the floor.
But I sat down with the children
And we played and laughed and read;
And if the doorbell doesn't shine,
Their eyes will shine instead.
For when at times I'm forced to choose
The one job or the other;
I'd like to cook and clean and scrub,
But first I'll be a mother.

Author: Unknown Submitted by: MsChocolite

Good Morning

Good morning, sky,
Good morning, sun,
Good morning, little winds that run!
Good morning, birds;
Good morning, trees;
And creeping grass, and brownie bees!

How did you find out it was day?
Who told you night had gone away?
I'm wide awake;
I'm up now too,
I'll be right out to play with you!

Author: Fannie R. Buchanan

Good Morning

Author Unknown

Every morning in Africa,
A gazelle wakes up.
It knows that it must run faster
Than the fastest lion or it will be killed.
Every morning a lion wakes up.
It knows that it must outrun the slowest gazelle
Or it will starve to death.
It doesn't matter
Whether you are
A lion or a gazelle...

When the sun comes up, you had better be running!

Halfway Down

by A.A. Milne

Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn't any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.

Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up,
And isn't down.
It isn't in the nursery,
It isn't in the town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head:
"It isn't really
Anywhere!
It's somewhere else
Instead!"

Heaven On Earth

The poem Heaven On Earth can be found by selecting the "Other" Category. Go there to find a great poem on how a family's love for each other made their home environment a slice of heaven on earth.

Home

Author Unknown

Out of the dreariness.
Come we in weariness.
Into the cheeriness.
Home.

Home

Nor need we power or splendor,
wide hall or lordly dome;
the good, the true, the tender-
these form the wealth of home.

Author: Sarah J. Hale - 1788-1879 Submitted by: Jill

Home

Where we love is home
Home that our feet may leave
But not our hearts

Author: Unknown Submitted by: sophie Buckler

I Remember

by Thomas Hood

I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in the morn.

I See The Moon

Anonymous

I see the moon,
And the moon sees me;
God bless the moon,
And God bless me.

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.

I would have eaten popcorn in the "GOOD" living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried less while watching television and laughed more while watching life.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away 9 months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment realizing that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."

There would have been more "I love yous"...more "I'm sorrys"...but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it...live it...and never give it back.

Author: Erma Bombeck Submitted by: Cowboys & Lace

Lullaby Of An Infant Chief

by Sir Walter Scott

Oh, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight,
Thy mother, a lady, both lovely and bright;
The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see,
They all are belonging, dear babie, to thee.

Oh, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows,
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,
Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.

Oh, hush thee, my babie, the time will soon come,
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum
Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may,
For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.

Messy Room

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!

Author: Shel Silverstein Submitted by: Randrew

Morning

by Emily Dickinson

Will there really be a morning?
Is there such a thing as day?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?

Has it feet like water-lilies?
Has it feathers like a bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?

Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor!
Oh! some wise man from the skies!
Please to tell a little pilgrim
Where the place called morning lies!

Mother's Would Be Little Helpers

They ask to do the dishes.
They ask to mow the yard.
Once you give in to their wishes.
They decide it's all too hard!

Author: Gillian Tween Submitted by: gillyscrapper

Mr. Nobody

Author Unknown

I know a funny little man,
As quiet as a mouse,
Who does the mischief that is done
In everybody's house!
There's no one ever sees his face,
And yet we all agree
That every plate we break was cracked
By Mr. Nobody

`Tis he who always tears our books,
Who leaves the door ajar,
He pulls the buttons from our shirts,
And scatters pine afar;
That squeaking door will always squeak,
For, prithee, don't you see,
We leave the oiling to be done
By Mr. Nobody

The finger marked upon the door
By none of us are made;
We never leave the blind unclosed,
To let the curtains fade.
The ink we never spill; the boots
That lying round you. See
Are not our boots they all belong
To Mr. Nobody.

Author: Unknown

My Bed Is A Boat

by Robert Louis Stevenson

My bed is like a little boat;
Nurse helps me in when I embark;
She girds me in my sailor's coat
And starts me in the dark.

At night, I go on board and say
Good-night to all my friends on shore;
I shut my eyes and sail away
And see and hear no more.

And sometimes things to bed I take,
As prudent sailors have to do;
Perhaps a slice of wedding-cake,
Perhaps a toy or two.

All night across the dark we steer:
But when the day returns at last,
Safe in my room, beside the pier,
I find my vessel fast.

My Home

My Home

I remember a place
With my coach Jerome
My small, special place
A place I call my home
It consists of some hoops
And all of my friends
Four coaches too
Friends from the start to the end
There is also a ball
And a very big gym
And a few Coleman halls
And a basketball rim
There is the free-throw line
When we get fouled
And when we’re behind
You’ll hear the coaches howl
The bleachers are packed
With family and friends
Whose minds are racked
With anxiety for the end
We play with great force
Says coach Jerome
But that’s cause, of course
With the Coleman Cougars is our home

Author: C. Marquardt Submitted by: m&mluver

Night Bear

Author Unknown

In the dark of night when all is still
And I´m half sleeping in my bed;
It´s good to know my Teddy bear
Is snuggling at my head.

No Place Like Home

Amid pleasures and palaces
though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble,
there's no place like HOME.

Author: Unknown Submitted by: paperbluetiger

Prayer Of Thanks

Author Unknown

Thank you Lord, for the day I had.
Thank you for my Mom and Dad.
Help them take good care of me.
God bless my friends and family.
Help me sleep sweet, all night long.
Guard me with your angels strong.
When I wake up on a brand new day.
Help me love and learn and play.
AMEN

Remember, I Remember

by Thomas Hood

I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.

I remember, I remember
The roses, red and white,
The violets and the lily-cups--
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,--
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then
That is so heavy now,
The summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow.

I remember, I remember
The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from Heaven
Than when I was a boy.

Sleep, Baby, Sleep

A German Poem

Sleep, baby, sleep!
Thy father watches his sheep;
Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree,
And down falls a little dream on thee.
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep!
The large stars are the sheep;
The little stars are the lambs I guess;
And the bright moon is the shepherdess.
Sleep, baby, sleep!

Spring Cleaning

by Susan Reiner

March bustles in on windy feet
And sweeps my doorstep and my street.
She washes and cleans with pounding rains,
Scrubbing the earth of winter stains.
She shakes the grime from carpet green
Till naught but fresh new blades are seen.
Then, house in order, all neat as a pin,
She ushers gentle springtime in.

Star Light, Star Bright

Nursery Rhyme

Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight.

Sunset

by Laurence Alma-Tadema

When the sun has left the hilltop
And the daisies' fringe is furled,
When the birds from wood and meadow
In their hidden nests are curled,
Then I think of all the babies
That are sleeping in the world.

There are babies in the high lands
And babies in the low,
There are pale ones wrapped in furry skins
On the margins of the snow,
And brown ones naked in the isles
Where all the spices grow.

Sweet And Low

by Alfred Tennyson

Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!

Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps.

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast,
Father will come to thee soon;

Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.

Thank God For Dirty Dishes

Thank God for dirty dishes;
They have a tale to tell.
While others may go hungry,
We're eating very well
With home, health, and happiness,
I shouldn't want to fuss;
By the stack of evidence,
God's been very good to us.

Author: Mary Stuber

The Children's Hour

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupation
That is known as the Children's Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.

The Closet

The bulging closet is
Breaking the hinged door,
And mildew is starting
To saturate the carpet floor;
I need to take a day--
Oh, God, may it be soon--
To plunge into the rummage
Before it reaches to the moon.

It took a crowbar
To open the door;
There was a solid wall of "stuff",
How could there be room for more?
Blankets, bedspreads, boxes,
Crayons, tattered pants, and shoes,
A bicycle, a skateboard,
And a forgotten game of Clue.

A couple of times,
I was nearly sucked into the mire,
Kicking to escape
From a twisted, inner-tube tire;
One hasty move
Could cause an avalanche,
And, heaven knows,
I'd never have a chance.

Finally, after digging and pitching,
The closet was clean,
Thanks to Fabreze and Murphy's Soap,
It's now a gem to be seen;
I defeated the smelly dragon
And he's gone without a trace;
The closet is organized,
With everything in place.

Author: Joel Bjorling Submitted by: bjorling

The Hands Of Toil

by James Russell Lowell

No man is born into the world whose work
Is not born with him;
There is always work,
And tools to work withal,
For those who will;
And blessed are the calloused hands of toil.

The House That Jack Built (Nursery Rhyme)

This is the house that Jack built.
This is the rat
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the
crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the farmer sowing the corn,
That kept the the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

Author: Unknown Submitted by: Jill

The Land Of Storybooks

by Robert Louis Stevenson

At evening when the lamp is lit,
Around the fire my parents sit;
They sit at home and talk and sing,
And do not play at anything.

Now, with my little gun, I crawl
All in the dark along the wall,
And follow round the forest track
Away behind the sofa back.

There, in the night, where none can spy,
All in my hunter's camp I lie,
And play at books that I have read
Till it is time to go to bed.

These are the hills, these are the woods,
These are my starry solitudes;
And there the river by whose brink
The roaring lions come to drink.

I see the others far away
As if in firelit camp they lay,
And I, like to an Indian scout,
Around their party prowled about.

So, when my nurse comes in for me,
Home I return across the sea,
And go to bed with backward looks
At my dear land of Storybooks.

The Man In The Moon

Author Unknown

The Man in the Moon as he sails the sky
Is a very remarkable skipper,
But he made a mistake when he tried to take
A drink of milk from the Dipper.
He dipped right out of the Milky Way,
And slowly and carefully filled it,
The Big Bear growled, and the Little Bear howled
And frightened him so that he spilled it!

The West Wind

The poem The West Wind can be found by selecting the "Other" Category. Go there to find a great poem on how one can hear the call of home through the springtime western wind: speaking of comfort, brotherhood, and rest.

The worst mistake

So I am not a perfect angel, tell me who is?
Someone in Politics? Someone in Show biz?
Someone in school? Someone in your family?
Will whoever it is, I know it is not me
For never been able to do anything right
or Say anything no matter how hard I try
So perhaps it was not meant to be
for a Mum, step dad, half siblings to see
Or ever understand feel or care
For as long as I am alive, its not good or fair
for a victim at home, with constant headaches
her spoilt siblings dramas..I am the big mistake
Her sneaky step dad and too soft of a mother
give me a different family. Give me another!
Moving out and a new beginning of peace
the sunset sets and than I am released
Good bye horrible life and family
and goodbye to the mistake and Ce la vie to thee
one day....hopefully

Author: Manasseh Bailey Submitted by: Sunshine Manz Spiggy

There was a cat who killed her catnip!

There was a cat who kiiled her catnip oh my oh my oh my!When I got home I could see the look in her eyes oh my oh my oh my!She had a smerk on her face when I was untieing my shoelace oh my oh my oh my!With her paw on her hip she yelled"I KILLED MY CATNIP".Am I really seeing this oh heaven please help me!I looked to the sky,and then looked down,and there she lay under my sneakers like she had ate all the food at a buffet!I really had it I must REALLY be nuts,maybe I should get some rest and wake up at dusk!!

Author: Taylorswiftfan(ME) Submitted by: Taylorswiftfan

Three Wishes

Anonymous

I wish I had a yellow cat
To sit before the fire.
If only I could have just that
'Twould be my heart's desire.

I wish I had an open fire
To warm my yellow cat.
'Twould gratify my soul's desire
If only I had that.

I wish I had a little home
To hold my cat and fire,
And then I'm sure that I would have
My very heart's desire.

Time To Rise

by Robert Louis Stevenson

A birdie with a yellow bill
Hopped upon the window sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
"Ain't you 'shamed, you sleepy-head?"

To My Grown-Up Son

by Alice E. Chase

My hands were busy through the day,
I didn't have much time to play
The little games you asked me to,
I didn't have much time for you.

I'd wash your clothes; I'd sew and cook,
But when you'd bring your picture book
And ask me, please, to share your fun,
I'd say, "A little later, son."

I'd tuck you in all safe at night,
And hear your prayers, turn out the light,
Then tiptoe softly to the door,
I wish I'd stayed a minute more.

For life is short, and years rush past,
A little boy grows up so fast,
No longer is he at your side,
His precious secrets to confide.

The picture books are put away,
There are no children's games to play,
No goodnight kiss, no prayers to hear,
That all belongs to yesteryear.

My hands once busy, now lie still,
The days are long and hard to fill,
I wish I might go back and do,
The little things you asked me to.

Tomorrow Is Another Day

Author Unknown

Procreations, celebrations,
Photos in a stack
Graduations and vacations
I just can´t keep on track.

Procrastination and delay
Was that Aunt Mabel and Uncle Voss?
Who are these people anyway?
I think I´m suffering memory loss.

Thirty pages in thirty days????
I can´t keep up the pace.
I´m dazed, I´m numb, I´m almost crazed
I´m sure I´ve lost the race.

Relax, breath deep and just remember
What Scarlett used to say
Even if it takes until December,
Tomorrow IS another day.

Untitled

by Eleanor Farjeon

When a game's once begun
It's a pity never to find out
Whether you've lost or won.

Can't I just stay five minutes?
Well, can't I stay just four?
Three minutes, then? Two minutes?
Can't I stay one minute more?

Untitled

Author Unknown

Our family is a circle of strength and love…
With every birth and every union the circle grows…
Every joy shared adds more love…
Every crisis faced together
Makes the circle grow stronger.

Untitled

Author Unknown

Cleaning and scrubbing
Can wait 'til tomorrow
For babies grow up
We've learned to our sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs,
Dust go to sleep,
I'm rocking my baby
And babies don't keep.

Washing

by John Drinkwater

What is all this washing about,
Every day, week in, week out?
From getting up till going to bed,
I'm tired of hearing the same thing said.
Whether I'm dirty of whether I'm not,
Whether the water is cold or hot,
Whether I like or whether I don't
Whether I will or whether I won't--
"Have you washed your hands,
And washed your face?"
I seem to live in the washing-place.

Whenever I go for a walk or ride,
As soon as I put my nose inside
The door again, there's some one there
With a sponge and soap, and a lot they care
If I have something better to do,
"Now wash your face and your fingers too."

Before a meal is ever begun,
And after ever a meal is done,
It's time to turn on the waterspout.

Please, what is all this washing about?

wedding program

A clear moonlit night at the edge of a glassy pond in rural northern New Jersey. The groom eagerly awaits the arrival of his bride while his best man, the officiant and the reader look on. The groom's parents and the bride's mother take their seats.

Author: claure de Submitted by: smartguru

What Did I Do Today?

Today I left some dishes dirty,
The bed got made around 3:30.
The diapers soaked a little longer,
The odor grew a little stronger.
The crumbs I spilled the day before
Are staring at me from the floor.
The fingerprints there on the wall
Will likely be there still next fall.
The dirty streaks on those windowpanes
Will still be there next time it rains.
Shame on you, you sit and say,
Just what did you do today?

I held a baby till she slept,
I held a toddler while he wept.
I played a game of hide and seek,
I squeezed a toy so it would squeak.
I pulled a wagon, sang a song,
Taught a child right from wrong.
What did I do this whole day through?
Not much that shows, I guess that's true.
Unless you think that what I've done,
Might be important to someone
With deep green eyes and soft brown hair,
If that is true... I've done my share.

Author: Unknown Submitted by: Debstamps1

Windy Wash Day

by Dorothy Aldis

The wash is hanging on the line
And the wind's blowing--
Dresses all so clean and fine,
Beckoning
And bowing.

Stockings twisting in a dance,
Pajamas very tripping,
And every little pair of pants
Upside down
And skipping.