Dear little Pollikins;—what a strange name To give to a cherub so sweet, We christened you Paul and there's someone to blame In thinking it was incomplete; You laugh and you crow, you smile and you cry, Your arms and your feet ne'er are still, There's mischief, I think, in each blue little eye, And evidence, too, of a will. You are not the first little treasure to come, We've had several more, it is true, But never you mind, we know you have some Sweet charms which belong just to you; Your dear little self has a place of its own In our hearts quite as big as the rest, For babies are kings and you now share the throne Which Love has set up in our breast. A tyrant you are and at times you demand A servitude common to slaves, Your wants are unknown, but we understand All the things which a baby king craves; The slightest of sounds from your powerful lungs Impels us to jump to your side, With kisses and hugs and with silvery tongues We attempt to make you subside. But 'tis seldom you frown, and seldom you weep, The most of the time you're so dear That often we've said we would just like to keep This baby with us always here; But that cannot be, for babies must grow, That is part of the Infinite's plan, And the time will soon come when the darling we know As Pollikins will be a man. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHANGED WOMAN by LOUISE BOGAN SONGS FOR TWO SEASONS: 1. AFTER GRAVE ILLNESS by CAROL FROST COSMOPOLITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DESPAIR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MATE (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |