Category: son

full

When I see you skip
(as a pigtailed movie star)
along beside me;
Velcro shoes and grazed knees
up high,
I feel full.
Full of gratitude that your heart
is so light, so free
that your grey sock clad feet
cannot stay on the ground.
I feel full.
Full of contentment
that just for the moment;
that very moment
I might of
presented a world
where you shall not be grounded.

submerged

And still the lion roars.
Not of two years
atop plastic slide
public baby pool bound
dictating his terms
to the undulating savannah.

But as a mighty four-year captain
of playground pirate ship
leading, encouraging, commanding
his invisible crew.

I envy him.

Fully submerged in adventure.
Not toe in, nor lapping rolled up trouser.
But deep into the silky blue.
So submerged, my half-hearted, self-conscious shark
brings a flash of real fright to his busy eyes.

I envy him.
So consumed by the moment
that reality is make-believe.

basking

Where else would you be
except here.
A king size made for three
sometimes four
when the night terrors wake.
Open all hours
for comfort and nurture.
You lie central
arms outstretched
Queen of the new world
basking
in the warmth
in the aura of love.

espresso

I don’t understand
where the water goes, you said
as you interrogated
the waste pipe plumbing
to the sink at music class.
Your three year old stature
convenient for inspection.

A quizzical look on your face
a mirror of images
in the emotions book
we had read and practised
years before:
happy, sad, confused…
And my heart exploded
with an electric shock
of love
which coursed through me.

An espresso shot
to a decaf soya latte self.

old friends 

It’s been a score of years
yet more
since we met.
First netball court foes
then school class allies
heartaches and discos
slack through the Uni years
reunited through
wedding weekends away.
And now
babies’ later
I see you afresh
sitting on tiny chair
conversing with my son
as the centre of his
three year old world.
He’s beaming
and so is my heart.

Inspired by EW chatting with my son