Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
(W.B. Yeats, The Stolen Child)
I think of my wild wisp of a brown boy who seems half faery himself... I think of his 20 freckles (seven on the back of his neck, four on his nose, three on his forehead, two on each cheek, one on his right shoulder, another on his knee -- and sometimes before bed, I must kiss each freckle goodnight...)
I think of my jolly plump elf of a baby... Bright-eyed and pink cheeked toddling around the house meowing to the cat...
And the refrain from this poem breaks my heart...