POETRY: QUACK and MORNING

These poems were inspired by some recent experiences I had with my son.

Quack

Quack went the duck and my son quacked back

Honk went the goose and my son quacked back

Tweet went the bird and my son meowed back

I blinked, and I looked, and I spied the cat

That distracted my son from quaking back

Morning

The sun is gone and blinds are drawn

The chill set in of evening

My drowsy son lies in my arms

All limp and slowly breathing

His eyelids droop but still he smiles

I lay him in his crib

With parting glance, a knowing look

He asks a bottle to imbibe

With blankets warmed and lights extinguished

I start to drift asleep

Until a fragrance wafts my way

Unwelcome scent, it creeps

One diaper later and change of sheets

My son is wide awake

He grabs a book and turns a page

My focus starts to slake

We play a game and sing some songs

The moon outside is bright

It must be full, the blinds are glowing

And cloudless be the night

It's not until I lay my son

Back down, asleep and calm

I hear a tone all too familiar

The sound of my alarm

It's not the moon outside my home

That brightens up the room

The rising sun is cresting up

This morning came too soon

But still my son is gently sleeping

No matter all the bother

I may be drowsy because of him

But that's my price to be a father