When he bursts into the room at the crack of dawn, 
When every moment is a new world waiting to be born, 
When just one smile 
lifts the gloom 
and lights up a room, 
If that doesn’t make the poetry come, what will? 

When he stands out on the balcony and waves and laughs, 
When his smiling face fills a thousand photographs, 
When he gets down 
on one knee 
to pull my shoelaces free, 
If that doesn’t make my heart sing, what will? 

When this ravaged world for a while seems pure, 
When unbridled joy is momentarily the cure, 
When he finally climbs into bed, 
humming and brimming with words unsaid, 
If that doesn’t still this weary heart, what will?