Wednesday, 26 June 2013

Poem for a new day

This is a work maybe complete, maybe in  progress...

The Baby

Beneath the soft white wave he stirs.
Pink tipped like early morning sun touched cloud.
And in that stirring entwines himself and heart into the world.

No gaze returns the misty dew-eyed love that reaches down, enslaved.
He sleeps, eyes tight, safe curled in dark before the light.