Norman Rowland Gale
Bartholomew is very sweet,
From sandy hair to rosy feet.
Bartholomew is six months old,
And dearer far than pearls or gold.
Bartholomew has deep blue eyes,
Round pieces dropped from out the skies.
Bartholomew is hugged and kissed:
He loves a flower in either fist.
Bartholomew's my saucy son:
No mother has a sweeter one!
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Bartholomew by Norman Rowland Gale )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- You Made That Child, Ronell Warren Alman
- I'd rather be, Monica Lanier
- An Art By Heart, Rasel Khan
- Fighting on..., David Lessard
- Simile, Monica Lanier
- Mental Evasions, Monica Lanier
- G I N A, hasmukh amathalal
- Esteemed, Monica Lanier
- बैसागुनि आगान, Bahadur Basumatary
- sTiLL the MOON mOVEs On PaSt MidNiGht ca.., sEaN nOrTh