A new dad talks to his baby a few weeks after the birth.
A FATHER’S CHILD
As I waited, in quiet moments my mind would your image draw,
how you’d look I guessed ,yet no picture painted ever foresaw,
a Father so truly blessed.
I remember, how with timorous reach my hands brought you near,
a feather touch embrace, rolling waves of utter joy and pure fear,
when first I saw your face.
Confused was I, when a single liquid pearl down my cheek traced,
on your brow to lie, whilst a sudden stifled sob the ether graced,
hearing your first cry.
In my arms, lulled into contented slumber by my body’s heat,
there slips a gentle sigh, it’s here my real self I finally meet
for now a father am I.