Theme for a New Daughter

Now 19 and doing well...

You lie a-doze beneath a buttercup

That flowers at the cruel time of year,

To shine its yellow glow at cheek and lip

And celebrate your coming, at the hour.

 

While faeries trip, and leap, and dance abroad

Enchanted at each tiny fingertip,

They sprinkle stars to sparkle at each eye

And plant a crescent moon within each cheek.

 

While I, mere mortal man, will watch you pout

And smile and gurgle in your new content,

You crook your magic fingers at my dearth

And charm away the weary hours I’ve spent.

 

And work your new-found woman’s wiles on me

Who should beware, or I may be undone,

What webs you weave, what spells, what sorcery;

My tiny witch, my faye… my Alison.

 

David Lewis Paget