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August 15, 2013 / AdamWritesPoems

This will not de-foetus

Something’s different about this wife of mine;
she’s eating healthy, not drinking wine,
a pint of soda, not the usual cider;
because there’s a baby growing inside her.
We’ve seen a midwife, been for a scan:
a first sight of the newest of our clan;
now, sorting the stuff that we’ve got,
we’re making space in our house for a cot.
We’ve looked right through the book of names,
snubbing those mocked in playground games
and rejecting any from a TV show
and those linked to people we know.
And when we had a scan once more,
on the screen it was a girl we saw,
so now we’re going shopping to prepare,
buying lots of things for her to wear,
toy cars, teddies, games to play,
but avoiding the ‘pretty pink’ cliché.

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