Her Love, His All

He sits reading a story, rocking her before bed

And in those clear blue eyes he sees the days ahead.

There will be long days, and longer nights

A mountain of dirty diapers and endless cries.

A frustration he can’t fix, a yearning to escape

A fear he is inadequate, a future without shape.

But it’s not all bad; there’s good he can see

There’s good ahead with the one upon his knee.

The giggles, the coos, the goo-goos and first words

The sounds she makes are sweeter than any birds’.

There’s rolling, crawling, stepping – first after first after first

There’s love in every moment, enough to make one’s heart burst.

There’s quiet company in those early morning hours

When mom wants to sleep in and then take a shower.

Her presence is all he needs, her existence is enough

With tears in his eyes he thought he was made of tougher stuff.

As he looks into her eyes, he knows he would do anything for her.

And as she looks into his eyes, she knows he would do anything for her.

She listens to the story, in his lap clutching one thumb

And in those tired green eyes she sees what is to come.

There will be frustration and shouts directed her way

At the mercy of one whose mood changes day by day.

She’ll feel hunger and fear and pain like never before

Feelings she’s never felt will invade unasked for.

But it’s not all bad; great things will occur

There’s good ahead with the one holding her.

The kisses on her head, the arms holding her tight

The whispered assurances that everything is alright.

There’s learning to eat and bath time fun

There’s dips in the pool enjoying summer sun.

There’s trips to the park and making first friends

There’s pulling puppy’s tail and then making amends.

There’s blocks, and books, and puzzles, and so much more

There’s a whole world of adventure just waiting to explore.

Mommy opens the door to find both are fast asleep

Eyes are closed, faces calm, breathing slow and deep.

Both have looked the other over and now they clearly see

That being together is the best thing they could be.

Dedicated to Margo

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