My Moon Child
Dear Life
I’m lost within words
unwritten between
pastel pages of the past,
Yet I weave my love
for my sun
in shimmering shades
of sunsets and northern lights,
wishing the amaranthine
tale of my heart would
be read and felt,
despite the tuneless
lines that f l o a t
in sync with
the tears that
hugged my quilted quill.
So many verses
refuse to remove
their vibrant veil.
He’s always been
my favorite prompt,
although
metallic metaphors
hide behind
crooning clouds
carrying rainbow runes,
envious of the lavender love
I express through
perfumed phrases,
personifying the
perfection of
our boundless bond.
I remember the
selenite rays of June,
ornamenting sapphire
skies with ivory petals
of musky roses,
reflecting the sensitive
speech of my moon child.
Perhaps, the
universe heard
my poetic plea,
as I’m no
longer falling apart,
like thoughtless
chains of
dominoes I’ve built,
in the hope no
storm shall destroy them.
I’m more than a
victim to vicious vines,
whirling across
colorless spheres,
deceived by
ice green lies,
resembling dying
poppies upon
fields of bramble weeds..
I am a
fluorescent bronze rose,
blessed with a
shield adorning
razor edged thistles,
Sprouting, and swirling
through spiraling darkness,
Yet redolent rhymes can never
synchronize how
motherhood changed
my vain vision of
pearlescent priorities and
periwinkle perspectives,
from obsidian tears
to glistening gloaming.
Who would have thought
that maternal heartbeats
could mirror endless rivers,
rippling with responsibilities,
that ebb and flow
in highs and lows,
Although time
unfolds trials of
purified patience,
I've awoken my
instincts to follow intuitions.
Trust has
become my nemesis,
unafraid and unmoved
by envious eyes,
that mirror
deceitful dialects.
Once a fragile target,
now my strength
is unshakable.
I've seen him blossom
in an effervescent spirit.
I rise to the sound
of his acapella laughter,
as the symphony
of his golden sighs
emanate fragrant flowers
flourishing within his heart.
He is my son,
in days of
defeated darkness,
he is my reason to smile,
and weld weapons
of love to slay demons
within wicked winds.
For he gives me purpose
and reason to release ink.
Copyright ©
Ink Empress
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