Fay Slimm.

Single Handed


Single Handed.


Heavy with deepest deep sleep
he feels layers begin to unzip
and strip off,

one by awakening one.

Body departing from virtual real
he lifts sleep-heavy lids to see
the wide  eyes

of his night-attired son.

Aware now of movements he
unwarily starts hazy ascent
mistily upward 

but sleep wants to stay.


Bleary eyed he leaves dreaming
half done and wavering limbs
stilled he stares

at the wobbling  tray.


Being a single-handed Dad
means missing sleep-time
when bad dreams

bring cries for attention.

Yet breakfast supplied with love
as a surprise present made
by small hands

well what could be better ?