Tuesday, 12 August 2014

The Soldier's Wife

Today i mourn an unborn child
he’d have my words
and your many-layered smile
he’d carry an entire village in his head
and wear a slew of medals across his strong chest.
my child would walk mountains with particular ease
and words and music will make his special feast
and he’d like to argue but also to stay calm
and when he’d hug you, why, you’d always stay warm.
yes, my child he’d have stars in his eyes
and a spirit that never says die
and a moodiness that’s yours as much as it’s mine
and a constant craving for the simple life.
maybe he’d write
no, he absolutely will
seeing what brought us together
words will enthral him
keep him still
ah that child of mine
would change you
in so many ways
and so today
i mourn my unborn child
and also, perhaps, my unborn life.