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