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My Wife and Child

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                                     My Wife and Child

 

 

            Is there a possibility,

A chance that we can take,

That makes the fantasy of peace reality?

           

            She looks truthfully in his eyes

While he suckles,

And the probability of the bond

Of understanding is powerful,

            As lovingly, she puts the child first.

 

 

            Majestic birds of metal

Spanned a million miles,

Now within a time of blame

She cannot grasp the sense,

Of pointed finger in bigotry

And living, under threat.

 

            My child suckles on the bottle,

Unawares that politics and prejudice 

May later thwart his life,

And my wife knows only love

While arguments enrage,

            I am begging for the peace

That every family should know!

 

            I am begging for a piece of time

For this love to blossom for he’s growing

And the Liberty with which freedom

Offered hope,

            Looks set to be replaced,

            Stopping love from spanning globes,

            Stopping human expression from flowing like a brook.

 

            Is there, a possibility,

A chance that we can take?

 

            Why with all the tragedy

Can people never seem to see,

The opportunities for all Earth’s peoples

To come together as the free?

 

            My child knows only Mum and Dad,

            Knows only when to cry for feeds,

            When he needs a diaper changed

            And when he needs to sleep.

            He’ll smile and coo on Mothers loving words,

            And every cuddles looking on in honesty

            As father puddles tears……….

 

………for I am Soldier,

I have defended populous

Who now seek this overthrow,

            They’ll point a blunted finger

            While stunted in their hearts

            No imaginations,

            No knowledge of their hurt,

           

My child knows only love,

My wife knows only love,

And I the soldier – Father

            Can no longer sleep so safe

            With wife and child

While the racists scream for blood.

 

                                    Our family, is love

                                    Our family, is love

                                    Our family, is love!

 

 

 

Michael J Waite 10th June 2010.

◄ Theatre of Space

Angel Fire ►

Comments

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Andy N

Fri 11th Jun 2010 08:07

beauitful stuff, mike.. really touching...

<Deleted User> (6895)

Thu 10th Jun 2010 19:45

(Beautiful family!)sad statements here in the poem re racism Mike.Shame is,that those small minded idiots are always going to be with us unfortunately.The ordinary worries for young families must bad enough these days without the extra burden of racism.Very worrying for the future as well.I think though that the fight against bigotry is slowly being won-compared to the old days.I have Nigerian brother in law who lived in Stoke Newington.On my visits there in the sixties the crap we had to face on the street then was outrageous! But being the laid back type of guy he was(deceased now)he handled it very well-but boy!,do I miss his sax playing-cooool!good luck for your familys future Mike-things have a habit of working out ok in the end-look after yourself for their sake and avoid any tangles when you can-not worth it.Thanks-Stef.ps-brilliantly read Mike-so much poignancy! moreso in the last line,where the lump I got in my throat nearly made me choke on the cream cracker I was eating at the time!what a posh Scouse? voice there Mike.

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Larisa Rzhepishevska

Thu 10th Jun 2010 12:16

Beautiful, beautiful, and once more: beautiful! God bless you, your child and your wife. Damn all those racists who scream for blood. You are the best soldier who takes care of his family. Our home, our motherland starts with our family. With warmest wishes, Larisa

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