TINY LITTLE PEACE

Once upon many seasons past

we had a little baby with us
its popular name was Tiny Little-Peace
in exchange for calm from the village next to us
what he was like I like to talk about
a lesson for custodians of other tiny tots.

Peace from colic suffered like any child

He needed be burped, he cramped I’ll confide
Peace did not forbear when hungry to cry
Stuffed, he yelped and could sleep defy
He could scream but often in rest he slept
Either which way on our toes we were kept.

From scowls as from the sun he scampered into a shade

But with coos and smiles he attention repaid
Many a wonderful gurgling laughter he sprung.
No matter the diction, no matter the tongue
To sweet demeanour he purred in fun
Our ears could hear its language or none

His lack of tongue was no barrier to speech

Our soul reciprocated with understanding pitch,
The hearts of our ears the proper switch;
Decoding commands to pat, feed, or coo to him:
“Change my diapers; change my dirty clothes with grime”
Or “take me hence from out of reach”

He bore other names beside Little Peace

Known to us and our previous foes from across the bridge
Cuddled he was, to us inestimable in prize
On us he depended and his needs trusted to us
able thus to eat, sleep and grow in size
a toddler zigzagging its path with us to adolescence.

Femi J. Kolapo
University of Guelph
Ontario. Canada.