Poem #11 Our Child

Our Child

How can it be
That so tiny a baby
Can grow into someone like her?

She was once
Our bundle of joy
Soft, delicate
And so small.

But now!

Such a tornado
Of endless energy,
Of endless busyness,
So alert and alive,
So bouncingly full
Of rough and tumble.

She entered our lives
Quietly and unobtrusively.
But now she disrupts everything
With a smile and a giggle,
A toy crash for attention
Or a loud piercing shriek of delight.

Her day is filled
With a thousand discoveries,
A hundred accidents
And a handful of tearful tragedies
As well as an occasional parental crisis.

And is that our child
So quietly sleeping?

All rights reserved.

Copyright 2006 Trevor W. Hampel.


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