Have Angels On Hand As Consorts Poem by Mark Heathcote

Let the hand that rocks the cradle
Always be a force for good
And shoo away them few baneful
Bent like carrion flies; manured
Let their lives be our light and joy
Support constantly—do right
By them, and don't try to destroy
Their precious childhood or make light
Of that exquisite gift called life
Feed and nourish each small moment
Help them to reach the afterlife
Help, them with their development
Be the heart that waters breaks-stone
Be the hand that feeds noble thoughts
Makes bread and sow flowers to roam
Have angels on hand as consorts.