A poem I wrote before I had children.
Is this my little baby brother?
I think I’d better ask my Mother.
For I am dark and he is fair,
I have brown curls,
He has straight hair.
My eyes are brown
And his are blue.
I’ve many teeth
And he has two.
Can I be sure this is my brother?
Not a sibling of another?
Did you find him in the street
And take him home for me to meet?
Thinking that I’d share with him
And play with him and care for him
And brush his downy hair for him?
Please return him to his lender
Note attached, ‘Return to sender’
Keep him happy,
Not to mention,
Pay him lots of close attention.
For he will dribble on your chairs,
Pull your hair and chew your stairs.
Cry a lot
And sleep a lot.
Laugh out loud when you are not.
Drop his food and make a puddle
Putting Mummy in a muddle.
But when he’s resting, fast asleep,
I go upstairs to have a peep.
He’s like an angel lying there,
With glowing skin and wispy hair.
My little brother, you can stay.
Just for a while, just one more day.
And if you’re good and smart and clever,
We may just keep you here forever.