Baby’s Colic

He’s up again
And squirming (Jordan)
Must be half past two
His Mother pretty tired.
Now it’s my task to do.
I raise the Boy in blanket
His frame a pinkish hue.
He settles eyes are closing
And to the couch we go.
I’d never ever hurt him
I love my wee Lad so.
Most else is now pathetic
My Law craft gone to bust.
And friends now oh so awkward
Not one of them to trust.
A new adventure coming
The whining now all done.
And hearing Him I marvel
“I’d never hurt you Son.”
The clock bongs three.
For God, the Child and Me.



(I sat there in early spring, 1987. Wondering,
hoping. After my Law Practice was closed by the Bank. A baby, six year old Lauren, my wife Hilary. Needing a pillar of support. Hilary much stronger than I in this mix.)