Waxing Poetic and (Finally!) Photographic

22 Jul

On Watching ___ Sleep

How does she sort through the thoughts of her day?

What fits and what discomfits her perceptions of the world?

of home?

of right and wrong?

Those eyes – so observant!

That mind- so bright!

Am I the example for her I should be?

She talks in her sleep, she wakes in my arms.

I know I cannot hold her,

nor should I hold her,

for too long.

She lives in my heart,

she fills my heart,

but I will not keep her from filling the hearts of others as well.

Sleep, sleep

my florecita,

my princepessa,

my love.

Sleep so tomorrow you will live!

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On ___ Being 2 1/2

I promise I dressed him this morning,

I swear I washed his face.

His teeth were brushed with vigour,

His flaxen hair combed into place.

I fed him a well-balanced breakfast,

then sent him outside to play.

I promise I dressed him this morning,

as I faithfully do everyday.

Oh wild, naked, mud-caked child!

How swiftly you defy

the efforts of your mother’s hands

and so personify

that untamed, wolf-raised, barn-born boy

of proverbial reference,

yet, how my face betrays my joy.

My heart has no defense.

I may have dressed him this morning,

He may have been clean toe to head.

But now, where my perfectly well-groomed son stood,

there’s a happy child instead.

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