Love As Yet Unborn
Embryonic lies a love as yet unborn,
pulsing through the tissues of the swell,
enshrined and cultivated, single flower
of the bed
where the sweetest consummation gently fell.
Sentient be the nucleus of dreams,
aspiring for the primal breath to take,
nursed and softly kicking, sleeping bearer
of the faith,
waiting for a future dawn to rise and break.
Living beats the centre of a world,
embodying a new and lustrous day,
alive and indicating all the wonder
of the stars,
promised happiness much more than words can say.
Innocent lies a love as yet unborn,
expectant of such purity and care,
patterned and configured, older than
the skies above,
greatest gift that anyone will ever bear.
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
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