Baby Love

We’ve a baby in the house
That’s what they call her “Baby baby”.
You can hardly see her . . . just a tiny face.
We peer at her transfixed . . .unable to move away
Don’t lick her . . .don’t lick, they say.
But we are bewitched, awestruck, waiting and watching her
Sleep and wake.
We’ve a baby in the house.
We’re thrilled . . . sitting up she smiles and squeals.
Reaching out to us with busy hands and feet
Glowing, trembling with love we receive our first embrace.
Mind her face, they say, mind her face.
But we stand mute, amazed
Enchanted … enslaved.

We’ve a baby in the house.
What bliss is this . . .she laughs and calls
Leaning over hugging our heads, tugging our ears.
Tangling small fingers till we squeeze our eyes and sneeze.
Gently baby, gently, they say.
But why should we mind?
Besotted, forgiving, we follow behind.
We’ve a child in the house.
Our baby has grown so clever and tall.
She can talk and run and skip and throw a ball.
We play and fall, rolling and tumbling around on the floor.
“Steady, steady,” they say, “Mind her head.”
But we are wild with delight
And quiet comes only when she is in bed.