Cradle Song

It was spring when they came for her,
the lawn alive with crocuses,
daffodils nodding,
the days lengthening.

On April nights I still rock myself to sleep
to the lullaby of wind in the trees.

In her welcome box
I put a sprig of cherry blossom;
it was all I had to give her,
that and the cradle
of another woman’s arms.

(In Mother and Baby Homes, birth mothers were expected to prepare a “Welcome Box” which accompanied their babies to their adoptive homes)


Gill Garrett

If you have any thoughts on this poem,
Gill Garrett would be pleased to hear them.