Poems by Jaymes Hanny
Her First Smile
Crinkle face and fatty cheeks,
We see today what pleasure makes.
Upon our sight we see her do,
Retracting lips, cheeks do too.
Onto our eyes, a sweet reveal,
Coming forth piecemeal.
Her face became a pleasant isle,
Eyes fixed on ours awhile,
For there I saw her First Smile!
Rainy wind-song taking toll
Asleep, embedded, her dreams unroll.
We stay a family in this place,
Contented caring face to face,
Held together basking here,
While rooftop droplets attend our ears.
We hee and hum a nesting tune,
Peaceful morning arriving soon.
The stormy chorus quiet takes,
Amazing now, the baby wakes!
Quietude plays a simple note,
Underneath it is where your best time is spent.
The tone is set,
Senses tune down,
We slip together into serenity...
There, to do nothing,
Is the greatest comfort.
Appeal to my Creator
Patten maker is it done,
Have we ceased to be spun?
For it is lovely to be one,
From thou orchestral wand.
I try and nap and dream and seek,
I look to the merry and to the meek,
For is it true just to wake,
To a new and clear pattern make?
A fabric rich do we take,
For this world can no longer wait.
Amid the toils it is said,
If a baby's to be fed,
The milk must be a temp the eases,
Gassy cries and southern breezes.
Halted is her furrowed brow,
Rubbing bellies, knowing how,
Silence comes to all that ceases,
Gassy cries and southern breezes.
Of All Methods
In presence of her Mother's breath,
Her wisp she knows, giving rest,
To all that tears the baby's crest.
Yet, a supple touch upon the breast,
Of all methods is the best.
A Parent's Hand
It's perfectly sensible as sense can be,
That an infant's cry can find relief,
Only through a parent's hand,
Attending touch, assuring strand,
Persistent presence of scent, of sound,
For nowhere else can this be found.
Squirrelly-girlie, Squirmy you,
Wiggly-wonder on the move,
You want the milk from
Settle down your whirling head,
And allow your mouth to be fed.
We Send Away
Belly to Belly here you lay,
Rising and falling on a breath-wave.
We quietly rest at this day's end,
And here we send,
Your toils and trials away,
Out to the Sea,
On the rising wave,
Of Daddy's cush-belly.
We caress together cheek to cheek
Audrey's hair scented sweet.
A briskly brush atones a sigh,
A rugged whisker gives a cry;
A shaven beard is my reply.
Torme tuning a jazz appeal,
Audrey swinging taking meal.
We groove along this morning tide,
Face to face, side by side.
We slide in rhythm---Exuberance brings,
And "Dat Der" Torme sings,
To us again, a gleeful rush,
Retracting lips, a happy brush---
Across our brows,
And again we see,
A morning loud with tinctured tunes,
Som'ma songs until this noon,
Pouring forth blissful moods.
We light a match for sacred space,
Abiding in protected place,
Upon a roll into which,
We see a Joy, a welcome nitch,
Where all is calm, sublime with flow,
From head to toe, we are anew,
In here and now,
I am here with You.
At Home with You, the Cats, and Me
Watch me Daddy, explore I will,
Every sight and texture laid in path,
Draws me there, no end until,
I have absorption bath.
Experience run, sensorium field,
Awakens loud--satisfaction yield.
I must toss and turn, rolling free,
Chasten next, discernment be,
Your watchful eye attending me.
I crawl at speeds amazement brings,
Secure I am in pleasant seas,
Swimming now, all movement sings,
At home with you,
The cats, and Me.
The Baby Strut
Goody grip from toe to mouth,
Fancy feet tumbling 'bout,
Bobbling booties, we wonder what,
Merry makes this baby strut,
In silly sync with cutie coos this morning long,
With gummy grins,
And melodies made in sonorous song.