BABY DADDY

I look out from the window and I see you playing hide and seek
with your shadow under the winter sun
Wrapped up warm against the noonday chill you look up and smile
And my heart melts from its glow.

You look so much like your father – especially in profile
A father you have never known and God willing will never meet.
You have not started to ask the inevitable question that
I know one day you will ask – Where is my daddy, Mummy?

Conceived under an April moon, evidence of your existence soon began to show.
They tried, oh how they tried to persuade me to give you up
But I turned aside and continued to nurture the jewel growing within me
My treasure, my life, my everything.

You pause from your play and wave your little gloved hand at me.
Your wave prompts the memory of another wave of the hand –
gloveless this time with only the glint of a gold signet ring symbolising family lineage
and heritage – too good for one like me.

But that blue red blood has been suddenly cut short, and that which was once intolerable has now become the greatest desire.
I finish packing our worldly goods into a single suitcase and shut the door.
You ask where are we going to now Mummy and I smile and say we’re going to find the pink moon.