An Afternoon in July
Andrew Cutter

Sparkling between isle and shore
the bouncing waves gloried the day
in easing aches of my chore 
playing with prows in the bay.

The Sun shone his lustful heat
the breeze cooing, bid me to stay 
the soft grass caressed my feet
as I walked the harbour that day.

I smiled at these and other sights, 
marvelling at my good fortune, 
knowing of a sight plus que bright 
that would bless me very soon.

In some doors and up a lift, 
I found myself in the small room 
where lay most perfect gift 
to bless that cherished afternoon.

Mother and child lay in bed; 
father, grandparents staring serene; 
likewise my own eyes were led 
to the centre of that bon scene.

The calm face in mother’s embrace;
an unworried, beautiful face
delighting in its mum’s embrace.
No pain, just grace in that face!

I looked again at the Sun,
the waves framed now in grey alloy
and I realised they were none
like this picture of Infant Joy.

She is sweet joy 
She is pretty joy 
She shines like the sun 
and bounces like the waves
With no greater softness
than hers can it be sung 
that she is sweet joy!
She is pretty joy!