An Afternoon in July

Andrew Cutter

Sparkling between isle and shore

the bouncing waves gloried the day

in easing aches of my chore
playing with prows in the bay.

The Sun shone his lustful heat
the breeze cooing, bid me to stay
the soft grass caressed my feet
as I walked the harbour that day.

I smiled at these and other sights,
marvelling at my good fortune,
knowing of a sight plus que bright
that would bless me very soon.

In some doors and up a lift,
I found myself in the small room
where lay most perfect gift
to bless that cherished afternoon.

Mother and child lay in bed;
father, grandparents staring serene;
likewise my own eyes were led
to the centre of that bon scene.

The calm face in mother’s embrace;

an unworried, beautiful face

delighting in its mum’s embrace.

No pain, just grace in that face!

I looked again at the Sun,

the waves framed now in grey alloy

and I realised they were none

like this picture of Infant Joy.

She is sweet joy
She is pretty joy
She shines like the sun
and bounces like the waves

With no greater softness

than hers can it be sung
that she is sweet joy!

She is pretty joy!