Holding Hands
I will bring wine,
Thick wine a ripe vine’s tear.
We will be sipping it slow,
To a dim dusk sunlight
Of a March day
Wearing smiles of accomplishment.
You will kiss me,
I know after this you will.
We will name him,
A name fair
Like a yellow daffodil
Or her with love
Like a fairy’s heart.
And be there
Holding hands,
With joy and time
Calling the child ours
Copyright © Sylvester Mataya | Year Posted 2013
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