Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Son















Warm, heavy, golden tressed.

Upon my breast this young creation rests.

His warmth and weight my whirling mind caress.

Till peaceful, we are one soul breath.

This power, goodness, beauty, from my loins sprang.

Could I, then these, be less?

All and more my burgeoning spirit sang.

Bright hope infused my doubting chest.

1 comment:

Cathy Brian said...

And finally , after we've had a month of summer vacation my kids are settling into the summer routine. I hate the first couple of weeks of summer break. Of course in a couple weeks are routine will change again but oh well! My favorite line "Could I, then these, be less?"

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