Fagged out as I returned
From a withering day
Like a Fulani cattle
All the way from the North
Peace and quiet I sought
After a whole day’s job
A mile away from home
The screams and shrilling noise
The decking-pounding feet
As though the earth were crumbling
Though tell of healthy kids
Frustrate my rest thirst soul
Incessant report of others
Unceasing songs of requests
Of sweets and balls and books
Plus cries and tears and hatred
That are better child’s than adult’s
Frustrate my uneasy head
Oh what a trying day!
Of torn blinds and broken stools
Of aching leg and bleeding mouth
The crash I hear next to the cry
Sings the demise of a memento
A golden cup much cherished
At such maddening moments
That joys of birth
The pride of parenthood
Are questioned in a flash
One is tempted to wish
Wish what? … my God !
The number not withstanding
‘Tis same with one or more
Such a tormenting moment
Comes more often than none
It takes Gods own grace
To infuse the rebuking hands
Raised, with fury equipped
With parental love and mercy
That chastise but not maim
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