Oh But I miss this already ..

Ah, tempus fugit! Here's an old poem about parenting that I wrote around five years ago and had forgotten about. It seems like a different era then. I suppose the brackets signify the daily compromises and fudges that most parents understand. Hopefully it contains that essence of being both beholden and deeply tender towards one's charges, a state that I expect most 'carers' are familiar with..

Oh But I Miss This Already

Up early at six. Unlock the door

put the milk bottles out in the frost

hot-bottomed from the (green) dish wash,

melting perfect circles into the grass.

Shout at the the children (a little bit)

for spilling milk on the (freshly mopped) floor,

brew tea-for-one in the spotty mug

waft the steam towards an orchid,

hope it might simulate the tropics.

Examine the plated bud for a minute

now make them their toast. Honey or jam?

Both, they cry. Wipe their clown mouths,

turn on CBeebies (just for a bit),

pick up the end of Thought for the Day.

Dip their crusts in (softened) butter.

Don't bother to sit down.


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