Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.118.27.44

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

Fourteen days...
			Ted, what will become of you?
Two weeks back, you were lifted out and rushed
to intensive care, breathing but fitting,
unable to tell us how it felt to
be born with wires, tubes, winking lights and graphs,
monitors for music. No lullaby.

Intensive carers, what will become of Ted?
With your skill, experience, resources,
teamwork, measuring, scanning, recording,
what can you know? Assurance so fragile
to hear, to believe, to hope. Yet we trust
your watching, waiting, providing for Ted.

Eight pounds six gave you a start, Ted, but loss
of blood left your vitality distressed.
Three times you endured a lumbar puncture,
just to exclude the chance of infection,
Now at least you are given Mummy's milk.
Now at last Mum and Dad can cradle you.

Phil and Lorraine, who will Ted be for you?
With the waiting, not knowing, sensitive
to every sign, fearing, hoping with time
to pass at the cot side. Reading aloud
from The Fantastic Mister Fox for Ted
to hear the voice of Dad, and Mum holding.

Rex, big brother, who will Ted be for you?
Hard for you to understand the comings
and goings, greetings and goodbyes; broken
routines, conversations. For you and Ted
we hope and we pray, but how will it be
for you together? Your needs competing.

God, who will Ted become? For him the best
is what you desire. Make us strong that we,
that you can give to overcome the hurt,
and so make whole his infant brain. Uphold
with courage and patience Lorraine and Phil;
may their bond promise peace and life for Ted.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required