Poetry Talk

New post from springtime_melody

Mother

Oh look! How she caresses gently,

The babe nestled in her arms peaceful

Her face shy of age and motherhood; Pouring her warmth and affection, every

Her gentle touch so pure-as if

Time she touches those pink cheeks

Of the babe who sleeps so solemn.

You know? This boy of seven-and-ten,

Is still a babe in your arms…

Yes those pink cheeks, have grown

Coarse black stubble hair;

Yes that boy who came running to your knees,

Surpassed your height a year thence;

“I know”, she said, as I moved,

Deeper and deeper into her skin,

As if to reach a place of peace; the origin

Which was my first home.

Her hand affectionately caressed my hair I felt protected… I put my head upon her lap;

I felt calmer.

As I poured what rested in me, along with

My devotion,

I hugged her tight; not to let her go.

She kissed my forehead, and ever so peacefully,

I slept.