Nesting Life Cycle
As I settled down, I sowed the seeds of love in my children.
My inner urge grew with them, separating our lids.
On passion, empathy, and respect, a delightful interlude
I appreciated them throughout their youth.
My hard work was rewarded, and I'm overjoyed.
It felt more valuable than what I had knighted.
Everyone is raising children in their own houses.
My house became a safe haven, free of worry.
Looking at my tired wife's tired eyes and shaky desk.
Discover years of agony—it's quite nasty.
There are old books and print fragments all over our house.
That's not a lot of wrapping for a lifetime of reaping.
We both have a positive attitude most of the time.
Are modest, quiet children doing well in lyceums correct?
And who prays fervently and pays their bills on time.
Those who hold the line and run their duty are glorious.
After the kids leave home, I'll build a geodesic dome.
What will the night be like for us?
Several trays, but we don't eat much, and joy.
Now comes the certain impact of aging and shift.
Following a road that is both straight and weird
This poor squire is facing his own problems.
I can tackle the situation to the bone.
My favorite recollections are from the nest.
The darker murmurs of the sky whisper in her breast.
My now-empty life's never-ending silence
The cocoon grew, oblivious to its conflict.
Written: April 30, 2023
Empty Nest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Cooper Etheridge
Copyright © Sotto Poet | Year Posted 2023
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