Category: Children

“Our Junior’s quite a bookworm,”
Says father, almost strutting.
Nicer, though, when he grows up
And reads instead of cutting.

by Ray Romine Monday, December 11, 1950

Our barber is thoughtful–he gives our son
A little gift when the job is done;
A something to sort of erase the glum:
A balloon, a sucker, or chewing gum.
But why, the day our car was new,
Did he give him a chocolate bar to chew?

by Ray Romine Friday, May 5, 1950

Last Sunday was Memorial Day,
The Whites, they came to visit–
Which in itself is not enough
To hatch a pome, or is it?

The Whites (just Two), they used to come:
We Four would talk, and listen
The while the other fella told
The things that we’d been missin’.

But Decoration Day they came,
And brung a family with ’em:
Farewell to peaceful talk of yore–
Goodbye to Four-way rhythm!

For Barbara from the upstairs howled,
(Who’d bedded been, quite cozy)
While from in front, tied to a tree,
There yapped their doggie, Rosey.

Between the howls, the yaps, and yowls,
The uproar and commotion, ·
The Whites, we heard, were very Well,
(Or so we had a notion).

But harder STILL to understand–
You’ll prob’ly think me nosey–
Would not small Barbara Ann hve been
SUFFICIENT, without ROSEY??

by Ray Romine Monday, June 7, 1943

When the offspring was younger, such questions as she
Managed, were answered quite often by me.
Now we neither recall just whatever was masking
The subtle change-over when I began asking!

by Ray Romine Saturday, May 20, 1950

While too much savvy at his age
Might seem a little out of place,
When will he learn to catch himself
On something other than his face?

by Ray Romine Wednesday, September 21, 1949

I tried to concoct an epistle:
Junior picked that time to whistle.
He gave my shushings little heed
As I endeavored next to read.
Then I listened to the news:
He expounded sundry views;
And when I lay me dovm to nap,
I got a baseball in my lap.
Here now, it’s homework he’s berating;
But tiptoe past. (He’s concentrating.)

by Ray Romine Tuesday, February 26, 1952

I think all kids are very nice.
But those I have will quite suffice.

by Ray Romine Monday, August 21, 1950

Mike and Keith and I were bold
Pirates after buried gold.
We dug and dug behind the wood
( In spots where mother said we could.)

But though we hunted low and high,
We found no treasure for our try.
Still, mother says, we had our treasure
In all that play, and HUNTING pleasure!

by Ray Romine Sunday, January 11, 1953

If children leave you irritated,
Don’t make too much fuss.
Their job is far more complicated:
Understanding us.

by Ray Romine Thursday, September 1, 1949

When Junior gets a brand-new toy,
His continued interest in it
I should roughly estimate
At a quarter of a minute.
How his love for it will grow
When brother wants to use it, though!

by Ray Romine Wednesday, March 22, 1950