Phoenix Loves... Being a Onesie.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PHOENIX

365 days - one full year turned, from whence you came and we learned,

What fate had brought us, babe or brute. “Cry all night long just make him cute!”

From overdues and false alarms, you finally dropped into our arms,

That thing once just a duck-like scan, now thrust unto our virgin hands.

No pain relief and stern midwife, contractions on the bus? That’s London life.

Part English, Swedish and science fiction, born London Town to Nigerian diction.

 

So finally we journeyed home, an eager family now alone,

Through January’s freeze as cold as death, that first night hung on your every breath.

Midwives came and then they went, until your folks were all but spent,

To me this now seems just a blur, though I’m sure your mum would beg to differ.

Soon came our friends, family and mates, drinking tea from mugs and eating biscuits off plates.

With cards and presents and love and fuss, we welcomed them in but longed for just us.

 

After our hospital tos and hospital fros, you gradually began to grow.

A noise, a touch, a look, a smile – the things that make it all worthwhile.

Who would have known there was such a treat, as to hear you fart whilst you’re asleep?

Small bottom burps and big loud trumps, the largest ones that make you jump.

Your face so sad as if it knows, when it is time for me to go.

Your face so glad when I come home, like you’re the dog and I’m your bone.

 

Well here we are and how far you’ve come, perched on the cusp of turning one.

And though it’s been but just one year, I struggle to remember before you were here.

Before the chatter and cheeky grins, the eel-like crawl and crazy spins,

This little man now in our bed, you take my space and kick my head.

But I can’t complain, I never could, ‘cos I have got it pretty good.

When all’s said and done and in the end, I’m just dead chuffed with my best friend.