The boy in the cottage at the top of the track

This poem was written to read to you, Isaac, in the style of the poems that really light up your little face at the moment.  And the lovely Helen at All At Sea is going to illustrate a copy so I can give it to you for your 1st birthday.  I hope you like it as much as Hairy Maclary from Donaldson’s Dairy…

Tucked in the hills
at the end of a town
(that was built on seven stills, so they say),
at the top of a track,
up from the church,
on the edge of a field
and next to a farm,
sits a cottage
where a little boy stays.

If you’re walking by,
passing the church,
following the lane
along the edge of the field
next to the farm,
you may see the happy face of a little boy in his favourite place –
standing against the patio door
in the cottage at the top of the track.

The boy, who is growing so fast,
gazes out at the field and up at the skies,
watching the birds that soar past
and peck at seed from a feeder
in front of the door.

As well as watching birds soaring past and pecking at seed
from a feeder in front of the door,
the boy, who has two little teeth,
is pointing at sheep that graze on the grass
in the field in front of the cottage at the top of the track.

As well as pointing at sheep that graze on the grass,
watching birds soaring past and pecking at seed,
the boy, who can crawl at lightning speed,
is waving at the red tractor that chugs down the track
with a puff of grey smoke.

As well as waving at the red tractor that chugs down the track,
pointing at sheep that graze on the grass,
watching birds soaring past and pecking at seed,
the boy, who has started to walk on his own,
is listening out for his father’s BEEP BEEP.

As well as listening out for his father’s BEEP BEEP,
waving at the red tractor that chugs down the track,
pointing at sheep that graze on the grass,
watching birds soaring past and pecking at seed,
the little boy with his face pressed to the glass
is waiting to hear the bellowing MOO
of the bull who likes to chat to the sheep.

As well as waiting to hear the MOO of the bull,
listening out for his father’s BEEP BEEP,
waving at the red tractor that chugs down the track,
pointing at sheep that graze on the grass,
watching birds soaring past and pecking at seed,
he’s wondering if he’ll spot the curious cat
who often investigates this side of the path.

And if you wave to the boy
who’s wondering if he’ll spot the curious cat,
listening out for his father’s BEEP BEEP,
waving at the red tractor that chugs down the track,
pointing at sheep that graze on the grass,
watching birds soaring past and pecking at seed,
he’ll smile and wave back.