Born under the wild, rambling star

tossed on the waves from deep and far

cradled between the rocks and pools

the Wanderer laughs and smiles and coos.

Twinkling light in such bright eyes

Sprinkling drops of tears when cries

dimpled and chubby hands and feet

drooling, bubbly, messy, sweet.

Seagulls fussed and shook their heads

The porpoise made sure it was fed.

Still, no feathers and no fins –

How can this creature ever win?

The otter stuffed fish down it’s maw.

The crabs felt sad to see no claws

They thought it such a low disgrace

it had no scales upon its face.

But I think it sweet to me

to look upon my own Baby.