pomes

There is a dance, a slow and careful dance,
That starts with love and trust and some romance
And ends with spinning wildly round the room
I dance with her, who dwelt within my womb

There is a song, a high and piercing song
That starts with love and trust and holding strong
And ends with singing gladly in the light
I sing with her, who woke me in the night

There is a prayer, a short and fervent prayer
That starts with love and trust and gasps of air
And ends with thanks and staring at each other
I pray with her, who made of me a mother.

This is the Winter: I give it to you
I give you the frost on the morning dew
I give you the crunch of the frozen grass
I give you the mist on the window glass

This is the Winter: I give it to you
I give you thick socks and big heavy shoes
I give you a hat and a vest with long sleeves
I give you the sight of your breath as you breathe

This is the Winter: I give it to you
I give you the end and the starting anew
I give you hot drinks and slow-cooking stew
I give you all this: it was made just for you.

Hug! and the world hugs with you!
Hug! and we'll all sing loud!
Hug! and then hug harder!
Hug! for your parents proud!

Hug! for an early morning!
Hug! for a lunchtime treat!
Hug! without time for warning!
Hug! knocks us off our feet!

Hug! lest you miss the cuddle!
Hug! you must grab the chance!
Hug! round our necks and middles!
Hug! in a family dance!

One, two, three, six -
I made it broke, now Mammy fix!
One, free, free, one,
Moon, bed, stars, morning, sun

Milko now, no down knee up!
Tea hot hot, tea Mammy cup.
Towel, bath, sing sing sing -
Baby girls tell everything!

Italics denote stuff that's NOT an actual quote from the baby

There's a cuddle round my neck
It's shouting "Sing! Sing! Sing!"
In tones which are not strident
Yet have a commanding ring
And the cuddle on my neck
Is putting kisses in my hair
And kneecaps in my shoulderblades
Toes in my underwear

I'm singing songs of foolishness
Of mothers and of worry
I'm singing to the tunes we know
That there's no need to hurry
I can feel the wetness spreading
From a nappy freshly peed
But the cuddle is fulfilling
A far more urgent need

I am a mother now, it's not a race
I've slowed down to my baby's pace
We see a bird - we stop and stare
As long as he is standing there
I wonder why his beak's so sharp?
And could we hear his beating heart?
His feathers seem all of a piece
More like a fur or woolly fleece
Why cock his head?
Why look away?
What has this bird eaten, today?
Where is his nest, does he have eggs,
Would I hop, if I had such legs?
Do birds have babies too, and stop
And stare at people as they shop?

What has my fearless child now learned to fear?
Perhaps she knows there's temper lurking here
My soft voice and my calm demeanour mark
The hiding of a passion vile and dark

Perhaps she knows that underneath the love
Is anger, cruel and hot. Her fear is of
Me. Her mother. She's afraid that I
Will cease to cherish her, and make her cry.

Perhaps she fears what I fear too - maybe
My self-control will falter and then she
Will be the closest target for my fury
And she cannot defend herself with beauty.

She's crying, crying out though she's asleep
She's crying, whimpers sore to make me weep
She's crying, even though we hold her tight
She's crying, crying lonely through the night.

I'm doing it right, it's easy to tell -
She tucks up her teddies in towels so well,
And she spoonfeeds them breakfast, and puts on their clothes
(It wouldn't do Teddy to have frozen cold toes)

I'm teaching her something, it's easy to see -
When I was upset, she came up to me
And patted my head, and asked "Are you ok?"
In chirrups and babbles as clear as the day.

I'm good at my job, it's easy to hear -
"Thank you" and asking are always quite clear.
She tidies her toys away, one at a time,
And insists on risk-taking with her hand in mine.

She wakes and she stumbles, rubbing her eyes
Looking for mama - but to her surprise
I'm not where I ought to be.
Maybe I moved.
Maybe I've gone for good, left her unloved!
Maybe I've walked away, maybe I've died -
Maybe I'd come if she cried - cried - cried - CRIED!

So she cried, and I came, and I held her to me
And she howled her betrayal and stood on my knee
And she thrashed with her fists and she kicked with her toes
And at some point her skull came in touch with my nose
As her face turned more purple and my bruises showed through
And she arched until there was nothing I could do.

I put her down gently. I laid her right back
On a quilt on the carpet, so she could have her attack
In safety and comfort. Well, safety will do.
I waited until her frustration was through
And she turned to despair.

Oh, the howling despair!

Her tears ran right down from her eyes to her hair,
And onto the carpet, and into her ears,
And I held her again, and I kissed up her tears.

I sang her a song. I clapped her a game.
I sang her a song which repeated her name.
I played with her tummy, and tickled her toes,
And at last I could hear, from her red, running nose,
A forgiving sniff, and I saw a small smile
And I knew that we were, for the next little while,
OK friends. Good companions. Reasonably happy.
So then I spoiled everything.

I changed her nappy.

I can hear her breathing
And my breath speeds up to match
I can smell her skin and feel
Her hands reach up to catch

I can see her grinning hard
With her teeth bared broad and white
And I can touch her skin when she
Is nursing in the night

I can taste her when I kiss
A bruised and dirty hand
And I can feel her hand in mine
She likes to hold my hand

Her hands are strong and broad and small
Her hands are tanned light brown
Her hands reach out and choose to touch
Her hands pull cuddles down

Her hands can talk, with sign and push,
And dance with songs, and wave -
Her hands first reached for those she loved
On her third living day.