My Child

This poem developed while playing with my son's lego pieces. Alan

My Child
Somewhere
deep inside me lies a child
sleeping.
Just knowing he is there makes me
happy.
He sleeps most of the time.
While canoeing, the thunder of wild rapids
might wake him.
When I am alone he often stirs
and can’t resist playing with my son’s toys.
Great sorrow will always wake him.
Crying.
He is an impish boy.
Scared,
Quiet,
Innocent.
Sometimes mischievous.
Always curious.
When he is asleep
I go on with life’s chores.
When he is awake I must
feed him,
nurture him,
play his games and
comfort him.
I love him.
If I were to lose him
I would be
Devastated.
Society can sometimes demand
a very high price to fit in.
Sometimes more that we can afford.

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