Wednesday, November 14, 2012

An Ode To My Child

Your dandles and dolls
give the carnations their canary
and the roses their rust.
The lullabies I sing to you
levitate in light
to incarnate as the
beat in my bones.

The confection that closes
into your craving hands
aches as the ambrosia
in the asters
and heirs to a harvest.

When I kiss your face
to make you sway
on slumber's sling
I realize why you are
the similitude of my soul
carved in my cells
my montage of motherhood.

First published in Barnwood Literary magazine.


Susan Deborah said...

A lovely tribute to your baby. I hope the baby grows up and reads this paean.

Joy always,


Thanks Susan, I do not have a baby! This was just a poem I wrote! :-)