Category: Children

I dreamed an angel smiled at me;
She was as cute as sweet could be.
She had no wings nor harp, Her face
Will let me know her anyplace
I ever see her….who are YOU?
The dream I had is coming true!

by Ray Romine Monday, November 14, 1949

A book well-thumbed is a book well-read
Unless, of course, you have ids instead.

by Ray Romine Friday, January 30, 1953

While some boys hate buttons
And others hate beds,
Not a few abhor washing
The ears on their heads.

Then there is the class which
Develops a headache
At mention of potions
The doc left and said take.

And there are still others
Who claw and who rave
When they hear the words Haircut,
Come In, or Behave.

(Our own boy dreads starving,
Which we allay gaily
By feeding him freely
A dozen times daily.)

by Ray Romine Sunday, December 17, 1950

Our growing daughter’s babbling talk,
Her nonsense effervescence,
Show why teen-age is but a stage
Described as addle-essence.

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 24, 1949

Have they ever figured what kiddies mean
Who won’t eat when the rest of the family is fed,
But who are pathetically hungry and lean
When, about eight, parents mention “Bed”?

by Ray Romine Sunday, March 26, 1950

Mother, who’s cooking, opines small boys
Are two-thirds appetite and one-third noise;
But father, who’s trying to get immersed
In the paper, says she has it reversed.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, February 5, 1952

The scientists in every clime
Exhaust much energy and time–
They also pour my cash in it–
This search that waxes passionate
For facts. They leave no stone unturned
While knowledge shall remain unlearned.
Six days each week, all day, all night,
They labor to bring truth to light.
They catalog each bug and bird;
They know how paint had best be stirred;
They’ve charted my insides but slick;
They know what makes an atom tick;
They know a rocket to the moon
Is possible, and just how soon.
They’re great on causes and effects–
They know what weather happens next;
They know what makes remote stars burn;
They know when comets will return;
TheyI understand light rays and heat;
And, if we’d live, what we should eat;
What makes a bridge stand stress and strain;
How park a car; how make it rain;
It’s hard to ask a question that
They haven’t answered snug and pat,
But this one has their knowledge beat:
How make a small boy wipe his feet?

by Ray Romine Friday, January 23, 1953

A conscientious mother turns
A little gray before she learns
That bloody nose and skinned-up knee
Go along with male progeny.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, May 16, 1950

As for prize-winning babies, it seems to me
Even the judges can’t agree.
But when YOUR child gives with smile or coo,
That’s all the convincing it takes for you!

by Ray Romine Wednesday, April 5, 1950

The barber sighs, and a whisk of his broom
Adds to the hair about the room.
With a final dab at the tear-stained eyes
Of his newest customer, Junior- Size,
He helps him down without further ado.
Realizing he’s just gone through
His first ordeal, the little laddie
Is glad it’s over- -and so is daddy!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, September 20, 1949