For Nicholas, a birth poem.

Against the odds, you were a boy,
Confounding sages of such things,
From bump to boy, with Marie’s help,
We loved your baby screams.
Your limbs they are so smooth and straight,
Your bones so hard and pointy,
Your chubby cheeks and cupid lips,
Your back so warm and downy.
In sleep your hands, expressive things,
Loop and curl your baby dreams,
Awake, your eyes, such pools becalmed,
Reflect the newness of it all.
You cuddly thing, you fluffy thing, you really are so neat,
You sleep and feed and toss and turn,
You cycle in your sleep.
You have your Mummie’s sculptured hands,
But you’ve got your Daddie’s feet!


4 Responses to “For Nicholas, a birth poem.”
  1. theduke says:



  2. Pointman says:

    I wrote this thirty years ago this day, and I look at my son and still find joy in him. The child as a man, has not disappointed. None of them have. I’m a lucky man.



  3. Jack Wilder says:

    I’m sure luck was only part of the equation!


  4. Edward. says:

    Nice one P, one minutes’ bliss, eighteen years of pain and now a man, glad he’s a good un, someone to look after thee;-)


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