The Little Babe
That night, she would not have slept,
When her little babe, in her womb, wept,
Her lap dried, and her full breasts sagged;
Her nerves pained and blood boiled.
I wondered, wrote nothing but was perplexed
Were my words bruised or my pen vexed?
Copyright © Narinder Bhangu | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment