You saw me as your little prince,

Firstborn, oldest scion, eldest grandchild,

Cosseted and spoilt,

Never in want,

Acquainted with all courtly privileges

In our fine family.

 

From little lullabies of derring-do,

To bedtime stories and sagas,

Where brave knights avenge the enslaved,

Slay dragons, strike fear in tyrants,

Save damsels in distress,

Heroes for all ages.

 

But did I ever tell you, dear nanna,

My secret wish,

To be the one that was saved,

Swooped up in his arms,

Kissed by the handsome prince,

The fair princess?

 

That secret wish I kept,

A door unopened,

My own counsel,

Baring none to all,

Unspoken through the years,

Never to be shared.

 

And today, I cradle,

My own firstborn.

With eyes of hope and innocence,

He looks to me for counsel.

What shall I read to you, my son,

Those daring tales of old?

 

Or do I say to him,

“To thine own self be true”?

 

© 2015 Silvester Phua