poem: Offspring at 30

Offspring at around 30                                                                                

My firstborn Eve – so smart, mature and lovely,

Now thirty-one, well-travelled, tough some say,

But there’s a hidden wound: her parents split

And she a teenage rebel drifts to sadness.

Thank God for Justin, much loved pony, taught

Her strength and skill. Then years go by and hurt

Again as Pete, her love, falls short; but now, in time

There’s Craig, new love, and she’s content

At Penguin Books:  they made the job for Eve.

And then came Tate.  Spoke less than Eve declaiming,

Was happy running round his bushland homes.

Could focus well; less worldly than his sibs

But rich in friends as are they all; he most.

The family split weighed more on Tate than all

Of us.  Rough friends, tattoos, but soft inside

Like granddad.  Same blue eyes to charm the girls.

Friends loyal didn’t stay at school.  But life

Is hard out there. So bravely took on uni

And passed.  Great stuff! Then diabetes hit

But didn’t faze him.  Off to roam up north,

He’s back, with Roshi, lovely Brit.  What’s next?

How lucky were we getting Lec!  It could

Have stopped at two.  His dad had cancer, thus

The child was born in optimism; then

For one so young, so streetwise; later tops

At work and play; a caring soul, and kind,

A true all-rounder.  Hitched around the globe

And yet forms deep attachments – long with Cat

So lovely.  Wisdom born of doing much

In early years of life.  Can argue hard

Against his dad.  It’s part of who he is.

offspring at ~30

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