"His big deep ovals, wrinkled in affection, smile widened, paying attention.
Hands circled around my waist, waiting for another chase, his chest rumbled full of laughter.
My breath hitched when I heard the shatter, streams of salty water works glided down unto my gown.
Silently waiting for our little crown.
The tumbling figures celebrating their success, questioning if I wanted access.
The giddiness leaned pressing on my chest.
I looked down at the beauty, eyes so blue, cries not new, tiny hands stretched outwards for my finger, for I did not, dare linger.
This was mine, she was ours, a baby born at night, for nothing more was such a delight."
YOU ARE READING
Shattered
Poetry"She held on to the thorn knowing it would prick her, and grabbed on to it's roots knowing she would fall, but the hope that flickered in her eyes always seem to shimmer, nothing demolished it at all, she carved her art on the canvas and set the li...
