Brown baby, coloured king,
’gainst your mammy snuggling,
cheek upon her dusky breast,
five pink nails sleepy pressed;
brown baby, fluffy head,
sheltered in a donkey shed -
unaware that just inside
shepherds watch you, wonder-eyed;
brown baby, milky chin,
as I watch you folded in
is it wrong, my little one,
wishing you my own, dear son?
Brown baby, coloured king,
do you hear the angels sing?
Sleep then to their lullabies
unaware your daddy cries,
your foster-daddy
cries, my God,
my coloured king,
my brown, not
mine,
brown
baby....
(December,
1982)
