Reposes she
With cheeks and brow so fair
Image framed
By skeins of flaxen hair
Puckered lips
Forming glowing pout
Recumbent God
Seen without one doubt
Lashes flutter
In dreams of golden flight
Tucked into bed
Safe love secures her night
No demons here
No haunted childhood psyche
A child at rest
All should have her like
Portraits of injured innocence
Suffuse my working hours
Souls may keen
At battles without power
A helping hand
From those who know the just
Love them all
As adults we most surely must
A little one
Though worldly without wise
Compassion demands
We see all through mothers’ eyes.
scottishmomus 