I looked at my youngest brother lying sleeping in his pram
My mum had said, ”Joe, come and have a peek.”
Instead, I picked him up, and laid him on my arm
And, with love, I kissed him gently on the cheek.
Soon after, I moved away, and until this very day,
I have seen him only once in fifty years
Grown up, he didn’t know me, we hadn’t much to say
I turned my head and wiped away my tears.
The boy may be a grandad, with his own little kids to kiss
But I bet he hasn’t lost the charm
Of that little baby brother whom I still recall and miss
Who, long ago, lay sleeping on my arm.