A Mothers Gift
A mother’s gift that’s left
Upon her infants milky breath, laying
Cradled in rest upon her breast with
Besotted silence popping little hiccups til
Sitting up
With puffy cheeks and silky lips
Blowing oily bubbles whilst
Looking through eyelids a flutter with
Sleepy dust and whispering
Their love beyond quiet deprivation
As lazy sleep bloats about the room
To land on eyelids fat with dreams
Of snuffling snores
And suckled joy.
Copyright © Mark Trichet | Year Posted 2014
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