My little egg,
you precious shell of life,
within you dwells all you need ever grow
into your spirit,
into the finest silk.
My little one,
you petal from a flower
that blooms wherever nectar’s found,
life’s your spirit
along the fruitful way.
My little seed,
you’ll germinate and sprout
so many glorious dreams each day
beyond your spirit.
The gift of life is born.
__________________
Note:
Special thanks to my good friend Bobby Kountz – and his first grandchild in honour of whom this was written
From Bath to Cork with baby Grace 