Here's a selection of poems for showers that you will find useful.
If you would like more shower ideas, please visit Special Moments!
Here's some poems that you might enjoy reading:-
Poems for Baby from Sing-Song by Christina Rossetti
Mother's arms under you, Her eyes above you; Sing it high, sing it low, Love me - I love you.
or another poem for babies by Christina Rossetti:-
Angels at the foot, And Angels at the head, And like a curly little lamb My pretty babe in bed.
Love me, - I love you, Love me, my baby; Sing it high, sing it low, Sing it as may be.
Infant Joy William Blake.
"I have no name; I am but two days old." What shall I call thee? "I happy am, Joy is my name." Sweet joy befall thee! Pretty joy! Sweet joy, but two days old. Sweet Joy I call thee: Thou dost smile, I sing the while; Sweet joy befall thee!
Taking Care of Baby
Little, helpless baby dear, While within your cot you lie, Sister May is sitting near-- She will sing your lullaby.
When at last you fall asleep, Not the slightest noise she'll make; Quiet as a mouse she'll keep, Lest she should her darling wake.
May will watch you well, for though She can play and prattle too, 'Tis not very long ago Since she was a babe like you.
Then mam-ma o'er little May Day and night her watch would keep; May her care can now repay, Watching baby whilst asleep.
Here's some more recent poetry that captures the delight of a new-born child:-
Her First Week by Sharon Olds
She was so small I would scan the crib a half-second to find her, face-down in a corner, limp as something gently flung down, or fallen from some sky an inch above the mattress. I would tuck her arm along her side and slowly turn her over. She would tumble over part by part, like a load of damp laundry, in the dryer, Id slip a hand in, under her neck, slide the other under her back, and evenly lift her up. Her little bottom sat in my palm, her chest contained the puckered, moire sacs, and her neck - I was afraid of her neck, once I almost thought I heard it quietly snap, I looked at her and she swivelled her slate eyes and looked at me. It was in my care, the creature of her spine, like the first chordate, as if the history of the vertebrate had been placed in my hands. Every time I checked, she was still with us - someday, there would be a human race. I could not see it in her eyes, but when I fed her, gathered her like a loose bouquet to my side and offered the breast, greyish-white, and struck with minuscule scars like creeks in sunlight, I felt she was serious, I believed she was willing to stay.
Do you have any favourite poems that are good for reading aloud or including in an invitation or thank you note? Please email us!