The thirty-first poem from my poetry collection Conception.

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Bubble Wrap

We all know cotton wool
makes for mollycoddled children,
so I use cling film instead.

It’s less visible to them,
but transparent so I can see
whatever they’re getting up to.

It wraps them up close,
keeps them clean and uncontaminated,
preserves their youth and freshness.

But is it flexible enough
for free play and creativity?
Sufficient space for breath and growth?

And, if it is, what about padding
thick enough to protect them
from all life’s knocks and dents?

Perhaps I should use bubble wrap,
and hope I don’t wake up one day
to the sound of bubbles popping.