Oh Happy Day
Oh Happy Day, when you were born.
For many years, my heart did mourn.
Childless I lived amid the throng.
Watching mothers rush children along.
Alone in a restaurant, twirling the ice –
Little girls with bows looking so nice
Brothers and sisters laughing out loud
While childless I sat amid the crowd.
Primary children would sing sweet songs.
Mothers would lovingly hum along.
Boys on the playground would tackle their dog.
I, like the old cliché, a bump on a log.
Watching, with my heart breaking.
Dreaming with memories aching.
I lost my first child before he was born.
Year after year, my mind was forlorn.
But then, it happened; you were on your way.
I prayerfully waited day by day.
Five and a half months within me growing.
Proudly knowing, greatly showing.
Then came six and I felt some relief.
Then, when you were born, you erased my grief.
I became a mother and not just a wife.
Your live birth, my child,
Became the happiest day of my life.
© December 23, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Form: Narrative with rhyme
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2010
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