My friend Judy puts a poem up now and again on her blog. I read this on the Christian Science Monitor, and couldn't resist following in her footsteps.
Flying Baby
A baby sits quietly
on his mother's lap,
frightened and calm,
weary and curious,
beloved – and so – loving.
Old ladies struggling
with irregular carry-ons spot him
like a star on the horizon.
Passing by, each one
touches the baby's head
with detached and utter
affection, sparks of God.
– C. Malcolm Ellsworth
Here's our babies.
on his mother's lap,
frightened and calm,
weary and curious,
beloved – and so – loving.
Old ladies struggling
with irregular carry-ons spot him
like a star on the horizon.
Passing by, each one
touches the baby's head
with detached and utter
affection, sparks of God.
– C. Malcolm Ellsworth
Here's our babies.
1 comment:
Nice picture! Who could resist patting those sweeties on the head?
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