My coauthor tells me I shared an incorrect version of our poem, so I’m here to set the record straight. The shining example of my poetic genius was actually written as follows:
Bub the Baby
If you ever meet a baby
who cries really loud
then, just maybe,
you’ll be allowed
to pick him up high,
right up to the sky,
then drop him in the tub
and name him Bub.
I’ll keep my eyes peeled for the accolades I am about to receive.
PS – I am adding this because it came up with a reader: I wrote this poem when I was ten or eleven, NOT in any way postpartum. I am not exploring taboo subjects, and no actual babies were dropped. Eek.
About a month ago I came across a new-to-me blog, Lucy’s Works. Having a look around, I saw she was creating a collaborative poem on the theme of “freedom.” Requirement was to post at least two but no more than four lines on what freedom means to me right now. I don’t usually do poetry, but this seemed interesting so I joined it. Lucy published it on May 1st, giving credit to the individual authors. I’ve put my four lines here, but I encourage you to check out the poem in its entirety – it’s quite interesting!
Lines 75-78 of the poem, attributed to The Edifying Word:
Health, safety, caution.
For those I love and those I don’t know.
This is my freedom to love.
Thanks for reading!