a poem by ROY Douglas KNEALE, UK

I played my role in giving them their life
Albeit I was powerless to say when
While she (the good soul who was then my wife)
Did brave the pangs of birth time and again.
Be girl or boy it mattered not one jot
For each their own sweet brand of joy displayed
As she who birthed them (stoic in her lot)
The wearing price of mothering-them paid.
Too short the span of tender infancy
Too soon our wee ones lose their innocence
Each of my offspring joy bequeathed to me
The loss of which naught else can recompense.
No benefaction ever blessed me more
Than sons and daughters those I wedded bore!
Cat. No. WN3712.
[Composed and posted by one acquainted with the sadness of filial estrangement.]

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