Like erin cream upon which tipped,
the dappled shade of a eucalypt;
as hens are speckledy.
Such blessings as the sun exudeth,
now adorn my lovely judith.
Oh! Let me your freckle be.
(Winner Geraldton Guardian Valentine Competition 2008)
There are those on whom fatherhood is thrust, and others whom find it easy.
Natural parents who make a study of the open handed discipline.
Big actors with small parts.
Which am I?
Today your mother was busy when we trawled through a house
that looked like Dresden in the wake of a Lancaster.
Today between interruptions I happened to glance up and see your face.
Was it I who taught you that patient self assurance?
The silence between us a little long.
Then a peculiar expression like a burglar when the lights come on.
Your eyebrows shot up like an owl asking for an obituary.
As I pounded between your shoulder blades
the stumps of your ungrown wings
to find the the slice of banana (ages three and up)
I prayed for the first time.
It was I, after all, who taught you this arrogance - Allah is our air.
For this and every breath you take, I give thanks.
Question: What do you call one who sprouts latin after a few drinks?
Question: What do you call a cross between a vigil and a fundraiser?
Answer: A lamentation drive
Question: What would a greek make of a canadian war-dance?
Answer: A moose haka.
Question: What type of mobile phone plan does the Pope have?
Answer: International Roman (roamin')
Question: Why is there no such thing as a lazy seamstress?
Answer: They're always taking up the slacks.
Twist and shout, whip them out
I am woman, arranging my flowers
Don't dare scowl when I drink more stout
my body makes milk, whats your super power?
My baby needs me, needs a wet cuddle
Don't forget about me sitting up at night
Give us the space so we can huddle
feeding baby anywhere is my jolly right
Too young to breast-feed? don't make me laugh
You were younger when you said "yes" to the other half
I am so happy to mother, I can stand on my hands
When my baby looks happy, I'm proud of my glands
I don't keep a bottle, I don't spend a dime
I just need a corner and some quiet time
manna from mammaries are my kids and my own
The miracle is, we get blood from a stone
I feed in the market, I feed on the bus
don't stare at my plumpies and don't make a fuss
my ta-ta's are leaking, I need to sit down
my sweet little limpet, is starting to frown.
I feed anywhere, It don't worry us,
Bubs under the blanket and I'm letting down