A baby’s born and no one knows
How life will treat him as he grows.
Parents nurture and protect,
Not knowing what they can expect.
There’ll be problems, joys and tears
Scattered through the passing years,
Every milestone firmly etched
More than all the times he kvetched.
Childhood days will somehow end
And time together you did spend
Will disappear into the past,
Your baby an adult at last.
This knowledge might just give us pause.
I think of this today because
This is the date my now-grown son
Was born, our family just begun.
*Title should be “A Baby’s Born.”
(Poetry Soup wouldn’t allow the apostrophe.)
An old man looks deeply into my soul
His piercing blue eyes disquietingly seek
What is written there on my life scroll,
An accomplished man of purpose, meek.
A fine pastel she has lovingly sketched
Another time, another place he and I,
Likely over a beer, would’ve kvetched
On many topics, oft seeing eye to eye.
I would’ve respected his keen insight
He has the look of one who is worthy,
Man of his word, his lips pressed tight
Hard-working he is, so clearly earthy.
I think he might have been a seafarer
Comfortably draped in a gray slicker,
I suspect that he speaks with a burr
Bright, quick-witted, not one to bicker.
Written June 6, 2022
Submitted to "The Pastel" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
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