My Daughter Poem by Jean Bernard Parr

you got a smack
the minute you were born
there was a lot of hooha,
screaming
not to mention, bleeding
you wouldn't think it now
your face like quiet hills
gestures unhurried, composed
a presence that the room fills

I never for a moment supposed
the way you set your bag down,
(a desert caravan coming to halt)
or find the right page in a book
giving out that certain look,
I never for a moment supposed

that in the future
there may be trouble
that your homeland
may not stay green
but turn to rubble.

A true Englishman would not
give it a second thought
Earthquakes famine and flood
are things that are foreign
to these shores
and are far less important
than test match cricket scores