Children Poem

Cherishing Children In The Moment

I am a mother of three children and at the time of writing this poem, they were 4, 7, and 13 years old. I had recently given up my job in the city to look after them full time. I hated housework and kept having to clean to show that I could juggle happy children and a clean house. However, that was a constant tension between the two. This poem came to me in that moment of tension, and I thought that it wasn't worth putting the cleaning above them enjoying their messy play and lose the memories.

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It really got to me and made me realize how fast the present fades into memories. The ruckus kids make, usually rebuked by our parents would possibly be the whispers they would beg to listen...

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Echoes Of Play

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Published: May 10, 2017

The cakes are baked,
the laundry is done,
the floor is swept
and the glass has been shone.

The clock ticks, the cars drive by,
the machines hum, and I start to cry.
Why? I can hear echoes of children playing,
but alas, they are not here.
I can hear gloop pouring,
but it's just a memory from yesterday.

You see, my little ones
were pouring gloop, making some kind of art.
I kept saying, "Keep it on the newspaper.
My cleaning I don't want to restart."

But as I sit here with all my housework done,
I can see 20 years ahead and no one is home.

Cherish what is now, grab hold of today.
Children grow up so fast,
and today's mess will soon become echoes of play.

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Has this poem touched you? Share your story!
  • by Obinna P. Anyaibe, Lagos, Nigeria
  • 2 months ago

It really got to me and made me realize how fast the present fades into memories. The ruckus kids make, usually rebuked by our parents would possibly be the whispers they would beg to listen to very soon. I would give anything to read this poem any time of the day.

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