I’m over at Anchor and Plume Press this morning with a little poem on “giving thanks”.
Happy Thanksgiving!
I’m over at Anchor and Plume Press this morning with a little poem on “giving thanks”.
Happy Thanksgiving!
cradled in my swollen belly
safe in your swirling ocean world
pushed out into my arms
held close and gentle tight for all time
from belly fed to chest
my breasts protect from illness
they calm your cries each solid latch
you’re nestled snug in pulled tight cloth
against my heart I feel you breath
the world outside stomps loudly by
and you just dream protected
Sleepy stirs, you toss and turn, wriggle close to my warmth
I am there when wakefulness disrupts
eager to help you find your way back to slumber state
scooting round my caterpillar girl
growing day by day
walks while riding close to mama’s heart
watching the world pass by
face buries into shoulder or smiles are given away
never do you feel your emotions are not true
in synchrony for years to come
I promise my shield at your ready
little fingers, little toes splayed out in the crook of my arm
you venture out, my lap your base
green grass and world to explore
from belly to arms to wrap to world
you are ready and I am here.
-joining Heather for Just Write
Since it’s April and April is National Poetry Month and these “Just Write’s” are to get me writing freely, regularly, and to give me practice, I thought I’d write this week’s prose in poetry form.
Happy Morning
I lay beside her.
Her little tummy goes up and down with her breath.
I watch her eyes flutter under her eye lids.
She awakens slightly to find my breast.
She nurses quickly, then falls back into a peaceful slumber.
Her warm little body snuggles me close.
I open my eyes.
Sun is streaming in through the windows.
She smiles at me on all fours, scooting around the bed.
I kiss her head.
We get up.
Leave a snoring Daddy behind.
I pat the furry head sleeping downstairs.
We turn the t.v on. Find out what’s happening in the world.
The sun is rising higher now. It fills the room with quiet light.
I open the shades and let more in.
We settle on the rug.
My coffee mug in hand.
The one he bought me from Seattle.
Dadadadada she repeats, rolling the sounds around in her mouth.
She scoots around on the rug, crawling over my knees, trying to get at my mug.
I smile at her as I sip my tea and crunch my granola.
Al Roker starts singing a silly song.
She turns toward the t.v. and stares.
Smiles.
She looks back at me and goes for my tea mug again.
I put the mug down, pick her up and give her a cuddle.
She chews on my face.
Her teeth are still not coming in, but her gums certainly are sore.
I kiss her and start to sing the good morning song.
We hear Daddy come down the stairs all sleepy eyed.
The little dog follows him, sleepy eyed too.
She sees him and smiles big.
She waves her hands excitedly.
He smiles real big and picks her up out of my arms and kisses her on the head.
He asks for tea.
I get him his mug.
The one I got him for Christmas.
It says Daddy.
We watch the news together on the rug.
She crawls on top of us trying to get our mugs.
We kiss each other.
We smile.
This is happiness.
-joining Heather for Just Write.