My Unborn Child
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Nigh are the chronicles through infant lens
that begins its long unimagined page,
and behold, all the world to its far ends
shall in time be your playground and your stage.
But for now we wait in last days careworn
a labour of love and bounty of life -
on my honour I’ll welcome my firstborn
when in my keep I hold my son and wife.
Gift him the arts and mercies of good men,
make heard his voice over the bark of most
and not want for love or false praise ask - then
my boy, my son, I’ll have no prouder boast.
Soon this big world you will enter my child
and soon a first breath and a firstborn smile.
Written: October 1999
For Oscar
Copyright © Keith D Trestrail | Year Posted 2022
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