Sunday, 14 August 2011

Wake up, little man

For my daughter Catherine and her son, Jet, when he was about 20 months.

Wake up, little man, breathe the morning air,
Don your climbing gear, there’s exploring to be done,
Mountains to scale and great treasure to be won.
That pile of dirt you can see in the distance there
Is Everest’s foothill which you can easily climb,
That narrow gap between the post and gate
Is where a crevice does painfully wind.
But uh oh, today the summit’s fence will have to wait
For the Sherpa is coming to take you away,
Scold and say it’s too dangerous to climb today.

Later there are prizes to be won if you dare,
If you can reach your hand up, open the shed door,
Check if it’s empty, trot quickly over the floor,
Then scurry off up the hill without a care.
Up there are riches and wealth beyond measure,
Your Nanna’s fridge filled with things so sweet to eat,
But just as you reach out your hand to take your treasure
That Sherpa’s there kissing, murmuring about sleep,
Saying it’s late, your teeth are clean, it’s time for bed,
Promising tomorrow to lock the doors to the shed.

So snuggle in, little man, she’s wrapping you up tight,
Giving Elly the Elephant for holding in your arm,
For playing Mozart’s “Lullaby” to sooth and charm,
For keeping you company through all the dark night.
O little man, your eyes get heavy and you slowly blink,
Your breathing gets quiet and you look soft and cuddly.
She looks in on you and you can almost hear her think
“He’s so cute when he’s sleeping; he’s really, really lovely”,
But we think, little man, that for all of your dream time
You’re finding sweet treasures and high mountains to climb.

4th August, 2011, for Jet, when he was about 20 months.

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