The Babysitter’s Lament

Hello Poetry Lovers

Well, I’m thrilled to say I’ve got a poem into the Mother’s Union London Diocesan News.

An unlikely place for my sort of work to be, but they accepted it, and it’s the equivalent of a T S Eliot award to me.

It’s a wistful sort of piece.

Do read on;

Babysitter’s Lament

How did you get this big?

When did I become the child?

And you the adult, studying my

spreadsheets?

Should you even be up this late?

I used to read you a bedtime story.

The roles now truly reversed and

you’re reading me a different story

altogether.

Saturday nights I would come to your house,

I can still see you in your pyjamas and

Thomas the Tank slippers.

None of this will mean anything

to you now, you’re too busy chasing

paths and fulfilment.

But later on, you’ll wonder who

hugged you and put you to bed.

How much tax do I owe again?

H Moulson 2020

I hope you liked it, PL’s. A wistful, rueful looking at things passed and how quickly it all went. I recall those tender babysitting moments so clearly, barely noticing how these children grew up, and how quickly they didn’t need you anymore. No more Saturday nights….