The Night That You Were Born
On the night that you were born, the air was calm and sweet.
The sun had set itself on down imposed it's feat, repeat.
Trees were browned and yellowed, fair, and leaves a flutter down.
And painted boldly all around, new carpets on the ground.
On the night that you were born, this welling up I bare.
A feeling new that I'd not bore before your getting there.
A tiny life that came from me and mother brave and true.
And all the while I'm bursting through, knew I'd be proud of you.
On the night that your were born, no thoughts of worldly plight.
I only focused hearty things like 'such a lovely sight.'
I dreamed of you as you would grow threw days so calm and sweet.
I'd help you gobble up this world placed firmly at your feet.
On the night that you were born, heard harp and sounding horns.
And I would walk, I'd carry you thru broken shards and thorns.
I'd spend each day too close to you so you might understand,
this wacky, whimsical, world of yours while holding tight your hand.
Now looking back when you were born, it seems just yesterday.
The true reward I've grown to know's not something I can say.
Funny how I tote this love, no pounds do I adorn.
I weigh my life by special scale, 'The Night That You Were Born.
Thomas Adams's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
The Poetaster Oct-2013
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