Infant Sorrow
~ William Blake
My mother groan'd! my father wept.
Into the dangerous world I leapt:
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.
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Another weekend is nearly upon us. We've been busy with school, work, swimming, ballet, piano, band, Girl Guides and soccer. We've cooked lamb shanks, rump steak Indian curry, roast chicken, pasta in bottled sauce and apple pies. The Lindt chocolates from Christmas expire tomorrow. Best eat them too.
