new zealand electronic poetry centre


Mary Stanley

online works

Puer Natus

My little son, lie down to sleep
clothed in your tender warmth, by love
wrapped round to cheat the wintry night
brilliant with stars and frost beyond the wall.
A belly filled with milk is feast
enough, no Barmecide may hang
your hunger on an empty plate.
Such comfort’s in a thumb the rich
might envy, and no palace holds
an infant king more crowned than this
whose curls I cover with my kiss.


© Mary Stanley

Last updated 26 November, 2002