What bedtime, poetry, and major awards have in common.

Here at Diapers and Divinity, we have a longstanding tradition (meaning we did it twice, and by “we” I mean “me’) of promoting the fine art of poetry.

In the Spring, there was a limerick challenge intended to capture the joy of attending church with children in tow.  The readers/voters chose the following two winners:  Becca and The Queen!  Here are their respective limericks about the joy of going to church with small children:

We’re coming in five minutes too late,
in clothes that my children all hate.
They’re squirming and squawking,
the first speaker’s talking,
why must the front bench be my fate?

———-

My twin girls climb all over the place;
Now my dress is undone to my waist.
I guess that’s why Bishop
Looks like he might throw up.
Wish this closing song had a quicker pace!

In the summer, there was a haiku contest about vacationing with children, and sweet Melanie J won our hearts with this tender morsel:

A soft, fuzzy head
Whiffs of coconut sunblock

Gold skin and freckles

Cute little white bums

Peeking out of swimming trunks

I smile. It’s summer.

And so now, in lovely Autumn, we enter the realm of an oft-forgotten genre (perhaps because it’s not really poetry at all, but this is my blog and I can do what I want):  the lullaby.  What does a mother love more than sleeping children, tucked into cozy little beds, comatose, quiet, and still?  I realized the other day that my children have started to become big enough that I don’t really sing to them at night anymore.  Perhaps they consider this a great blessing, but I kind of miss it.  When Grant was born, my first little infant, I wanted to somehow instill in him the concept of worship before bedtime even though he was too young to read scriptures and pray, so my solution was singing lullabys.  I wrote lyrics to accompany the music of There is a Green Hill Far Away, and the song was a little testimony about how special he was.  I sang it every night, and then to represent prayer, I would sing A Child’s Prayer. With Clark, I added My Heavenly Father Loves Me (which he called “Song of a bird”), and Natalie’s signature lullaby became You Are My Sunshine (admittedly not spiritual, but nevertheless heartfelt).  Anyway, it dawned on me the other night that it had been so long since I sang Grant’s lullaby, that I think I forgot the words!  I lay awake one night trying to remember, and I came up with these three verses.  This may have been the whole thing, but I have a haunting feeling I forgot a verse.  Handel is cringing in his grave with jealousy that he didn’t write anything as glorious as this.  (To the tune of There Is a Green Hill Far Away):

lullaby

Now it’s your turn.  Pick a tune, and write a lullaby to your child/children.  Even just one verse is fine.  It can be beautiful or hilarious or somewhere in between.  Submit your lyrics (and identify the tune) in the comments below by Sunday night, and next Monday I’ll announce the finalists.  The winner will get a season-long highlight on my sidebar plus the great honor of this poetry crown to display on your own blog with pride.  (Melanie, Becca, and The Queen, feel free to snag this button as a reminder of your past glory.)

Poetry crown

Last night, I hugged Natalie and sang her some songs before bedtime for old time’s sake.  I need some new material now, so show me your best stuff, all you fake poets out there.

(And even if you don’t have an entry, tell us about your own lullaby traditions.)

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