2 OCTOBER 1964, Page 32

Conception is a Blessing

After three boys my belly Gave up; skin stretched; grew old; 1 stare at my flesh each morning: Beetles could hide in the folds.

I feel the tiny creatures Propel themselves uphill; Swim for dear life within me;.

If I lie still • I feel their million tails, Their one fierce Will.

Swim you little bastard

Only one can win: Can grow, feed on my innards, Can stretch my tired skin If I let him in.