Every night when I feel you with my hand,
In your mother’s womb when you flick and bend,
I touch her belly where I can feel you move,
I can feel you; can you feel me too ?
My little one I await you to come,
to take you in arms – my good-luck charm,
to come back home from worldly bother,
to kiss you only as can a father.
Filed under: Child, English Poetry, Child, Father