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 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?
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