Our Little Secret

Anticipation stocks my secret joy,

The bliss and thrill of new and growing life; 

Happy, loving, sweet thoughts do my heart cloy,

Unable to contain delight so rife.

Like the shore that cannot contain the wave

Or the cone that can’t stop the lava flow,

Rapture leads my tongue to recklessly rave,

Though I shouldn’t speak, I sensibly know.

So I will keep the happy news private,

No opening where the world may steal peeks,

No ecstasy will make me divulge it, 

Our little secret for the next eight weeks.

Then Herald-like I will declare the glee, 

The Halls are adding to their family.

December 2005