T. Ruthven
Fatherhood
He looks on in awe an experience
Never to be forgotten.
Holding out his desperate hands
Of thankfulness and relief,
He embraces the birth of his first child.
Eternal love seeps through his veins,
His heart beating a beat faster,
Emotions fill his eyes, a deep long gaze,
Wonderment, excitement, exhaustion.
He looks down with the softest of faces,
A look never seen before, hardened bricky.
A kiss on his forehead, a wink for me,
His big strong hands seem softened by innocence,
A miracle held to his chest; his boy, his first born.
Page(s) 36-7
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