MY CHARGE .

Rolling out the heavy set:
The rubber wheeled carriage
With its grey velour seat and foot rest,
Where,
Nestled in its grip,
Sits the prince of the city
And pity any mortal caught by his gaze:
Those flashing,
Dashing eyes of crystal blue,
One pupil slightly larger than the other,
Smothering his prey
And daring them to shy away
Or fail to say how beautiful they are;
Larger than
Is the light that streams from them
And keen to shed enlightenment on everything;
Seeing all
And more than sight
Had ever sought before and thoughtfully;
Laughing at the
Patrons of the zoo met queues
And reminding them of feeding times;
Replacing strangers’
Angst with granted ease,
And seeking more to solace and console;
Tapering anxieties
And tying up loose wiring
Where worries have been hurried into heads,
And replacing
His coachman’s doubts
With the clarity of confidence.