They are our children, to be sure
These tiny verses scattered 'round
For each and every one
Was conceived within us
And born through the weary labor pangs
Of our minds
Some came easy
and were presented strait away into this shining world
While many others had a more difficult delivery
And we had to strain many hours- days even, before
They could be laid gently on the paper
as a whole,
And then comes the delight of parenthood.
Where we watch their daily progress among this sea of fellow children
Sometimes we are surprised by a little one's progress
As he soars among the ranks.
And occasionally our expectations are dropped.
By a quiet one's slowness at leaving the nest.
Because, just like children, we never know
what to expect from them.
But no matter the difference in success or failure,
We love them all equally.
Because each one was born from our musing
And we put in as much love and care for the first
As we did the latest
- whether we were conscious of it or not.