Art thou having hiccups now, my child?
Thou art quite jerky but consistent.
From cupped butterfly to random kicks wild,
Thy presence is felt, yes most persistent.
Be it noon or twilight, the breaking dawn,
Thy every kick maketh my heart gladder.
But sometimes, a misplaced stretch or yawn
Causeth yells of “Sweetheart, NOT THE BLADDER!”
Tho ice-cream and warm show’rs stir thee to move
And remind I carry a babe brand new,
The start of thee was the product of love,
And love thee we have, long before we knew.
So long as we can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
13 June 2011 at 8:19 am
Oh, the bladder! Anything but the bladder!
13 June 2011 at 8:34 am
Absolutely delightful write. Well done.