New poem for my new nephew.


Little star
Born in the morning
before the old, grey world yawned,
braced itself, drew a deep breath.

You appeared,
And who could contain a smile,
suppress the surprise of a beaming grin,
to hear of your cry, your waking the dawn?


Little star, little gift

Not yet a twinkle in your daddy’s eye

he wandered the restless world to find
some men poor, but with warm hearts and wide,
some were billionaires but mere beggars inside.
He travelled the glittering globe and knew
that all of its treasures couldn’t compare to you.

Que pasa
little man? To what will the planet come
before you are old, and what will you be?

How I wonder at your destiny…
But your mother knows: you’ve arrived at perfection.

Little star, you may soar high
but already posses a brightness, significance and worth
no learning, labour or luck can diminish or increase.

Our love for you will not grow or fade with age or size.
Relax in this knowledge throughout your time on earth

as you rise and shine and, as now, smile in sleep.