Into The Ring Copyright © 2008 Rob Lock

                       Roll up, roll up,
family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances!
The baby of the century has just been born!
Be entertained and edified by gurglings, burps,
and surplus milk trickling down a chin.
See him sinking into sleep beneath a cover
crocheted thirty years ago by granny
when the mother of the moment was about
to make her entrance. Kiss that mother now
on each cheek, shake the father by the hand,
raise your glass and look the camera in the eye.
Take your turn to rock the cradle, give your love
and wish this first-born luck at leaping through
life’s fiery hoops.

                        They’ve gone.
They didn’t stay to see the new-bike trick
that scarred your knee, the bashful, gap-toothed grin
the girl next door received to thank her
for a 7th birthday kiss, the hunched-up shoulders
that rejected sympathy the first time you were dumped.
They got on with their lives, rocked more cradles,
lugged more carry-cots as brother, sister, cousins
came along. But put this on the posters, placards
of your mind: the moment that you somersaulted
from the womb and landed in the sawdust of our lives,
the greatest show on earth began. Cradling you,
I launched out upon the high-wire act that still goes on
though audience and safety net are gone.