For Christopher
Written by a family friend on the birth of my first son,
and later broadcast on local radio.

Sleep, little one.
Your mother stands at your side,
Seeing the life she created,
Smiling in quiet pride.
When you wake, little one,
She will hold you and soothe your cries,
You'll drink, and be contented,
And see your world in her eyes.

Sleep, little one,
You don't see her plans and her fears.
Know but the peace of innocence;
There'll be time enough for tears.
When you grow, little one,
You shall inherit the earth,
But what wil we have to give you
And what will the future be worth?

Will you walk on a hillside in springtime,
And swim in summertime seas?
Will you gaze in delight on a star-scattered night,
And marvel at snow-laden trees?

Or will these be things that you'll read of,
'Neath a sky that's a permanent grey?
Will you choke on the air, asking "Didn't they care
When they threw all the beauty away?"

But not now the pain and the sorrow,
Your life has scarcely begun;
We can only guess at tomorrow,
So sleep, little one


© Ann Godden, 16/11/71