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Rated: E · Poetry · Parenting · #2144951
pregnancy and how this can sometimes feel, mostly joy
The Fat Lady
You'll see her distance daze,
Sitting comfortably on a wall
Counting the precious days,
Until her bump of love falls,

Her mind is shooting off
Of dreams and plans
The best is all she wants
What any mum would, if they can

A policeman, teacher or musician,
A footballer, astronaut or nurse,
A mum wants her child supercilious
The dreams she has they burst.

Counting the days to D day
Becomes tedious and drawn long,
Of meeting her child of love
And to hear the crying song,

These fat ladies are great,
They are unselfish and true,
They all look forward to the day
To meeting a remarkable little, you!

She's dreaming, Winston, Shakespeare
Armstrong, Nightingale, Winfrey
She's wishful for your journey,
For you to make your own history

The pains she'll suffer, oh boy
It could be two days or two hours,
It will all end in sheer joy,
From the first smile of power

The fat lady will be singing,
And you precious will be loved,
A bus driver, a midwife, who cares,
From the moment you arrive
There will be great love there,

Cheers to the fat ladies in the world
For being unselfish, loving and sincere,
And providing life at a burst
May your gems be as precious as you my dear

Thanks for reading

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