My Baby

I lay with my baby, breathing him in.

Foreheads together, skin-to-skin.

The sweetest of breath, the gentlest of snores;

Long curling eyelashes, most perfect of pores.

Cherubic of mouth and a cute button nose,

Arm around my neck, tickling my leg with his toes.

I observed him quietly, in wonder and awe;

I tried to be objective but perfection I saw.

Dimpled knuckles and chubby knees,

I just wanted this moment in time to freeze.

Feeling too hot and with my arm going numb

I lay still as a statue and stroked his hair with my thumb.

I didn’t move a muscle, although I needed a wee;

All I wanted was to lay there, just my boy and me.

A product of hubby and me but a person all of his own

I can’t believe he’s all mine; surely he’s only on loan?

How quickly the time’s flown, really, how can it be,

That my baby lying with me has already turned three?