Writing by Peter Hilton

And then there’s you

A poem by C. Robert Hilton.

As a child he was mothered,
Played, learned persistence,
Misbehaved, was the curse
And blessing of his Ma’s existence.

Was taught good morals
To let alone the theivable,
And given a religion
To believe the unbelievable.

Went to school – or not,
Was his parents’ pride and anxiety.
Puberty fact, girls theory,
The frustration of propriety.

Married and had children,
In that order perhaps.
Worked to keep his family
As well as other chaps.

Picture him if you can
Before your inner eyes.
So like yourself this man,
That it could be a surprise

To find he’s a Lapp or a Maori,
An Inuit or a Jew,
Anybody from Arab to Zulu,
And then there’s you.

©2008 C. R. Hilton

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