A new dad talks to his baby a few weeks after the birth.


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.

3 thoughts on “A FATHER’S CHILD

  1. A gentle write, and tugs at the heart. We do find out more about ourselves when faced with the joyful yet scary realization that a tiny life looks to us for everything. Some people just have a natural instinct for parenthood.


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