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.