Mothers’ Eyes

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.

My Space Cadet

Beautifully alien

And wonderfully bizarre,

From babe

To almost full grown.

Questioning

Strange anomalies of life,

And others,

I’ve never known.

Like, ‘If I was painted the same colour as air,

Would I be invisible to you?’

And, ‘ If the Clyde could be bottled,

How many bottles would you need that to do?’

 

And, others more usual, like,

‘Where does the itch go

When you’ve had a really good scratch?’

I look on and puzzle and question

From where exactly did this amazing boy of mine hatch?

 

I was there,

I felt the pain

And gazed at this gift in my arms.

Little knowing then,

That as he grew,

I’d succumb to all of his charms.

 

Eighteen years later I marvel each day

And wonder that I never saw

That my six foot Adonis

Had the soul of a child, a child full of wonder and awe.

My space cadet with questioning green eyes

And a mind with tremendous insight.

I know, in my heart, that this babe of mine

Is a child that was born of the light.