Poem page twenty-five
Other Peoples Children
Friends and neighbours out having fun
Me, alone, with an ear for one
Who sleeps so softly in the night
Listening for a tear that might
Fall from the childs eye.
A murmur or cry uttered so low
That no other would hear
But I am there
With soothing sound
And arms to wrap a child round.
A bottle emptied, a child full
A baby changed, and in the lull
Amidst a sense of soap
And new, clean skin
I am proud to be akin
To one so pure and smiling.
A Duel of Delight and Desperation
