When the bough breaks- to the tune of ‘Rockabye Baby’


For my son’s Guardian Angel


Make a rope swing, I thought, for my son:

Fill sunny days with pendular fun,

Thank God and all angels I tested the bough:

To see if rough usage its strength would allow.


For down the bough came, my shoulders were struck:

Although my blood flowed, I hold it great luck

That this Viking prow, all rotten and dead,

Struck knarled old me, and not my boy’s head. 


So now I do thank whoe’re watched from above,

Protected my son with the grace of a dove:

Placed him well away, from gravity’s might,

Then gave to me caution, lifegiving foresight.


Copyright Tom Tide 2017


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