Some artists such as the fabulous Aletha Kuschan like to paint their children. I like to write the odd poem or two about my precious pumpkins. Here is one I wrote about my daughter Tessa, who is now six. This poem goes into my ‘just for fun’ category as I am sure it is far too sentimental to ever be published in a journal. But I fit into the ‘couldn’t give a toss’ category anyway and have written it just for Tessa.

On the 12th day of November

Baby Tessa arrives in style.

She is different to her brother

With an alertness in her eyes.


Our gorgy, porgy, precious girl

With a warm bread smell about her.

Skin as soft as a pony’s nose

And squidgy toes and fingers.


Our Chooky-Do is lovely

And yummy enough to eat.

We tickle and make her giggle.

Sprinkling kisses on her feet.


We bath and dry and hold her.

A delicate, scrumptious lump.

So warm and soft and sleepy,

Milky breath and tummy plump.


Mummy sings a lullaby,

Her mummy sang to her.

‘Rock-a-bye baby …’ it goes,

Rolling through a sleepy blur.


Peaceful in a baby sling,

Next to Daddy’s chest.

Enveloped in love and protectiveness.

Our blessed child at rest.