My Beautiful Children

A poem about how much I love my young men. (The baby days)

Sits a lady finely weaving

Golden, sinewed strands,

Place these on your head,

These given her by angels' hands.


Sunshine wrapped in petals

Of a flower never seen;

An energy so newly worn,

Contained beneath that skin.


Haston, wanton questions 

Falling down like soothing rain.

Heaven cries for lack of you,

I relish in my gain.


Circled love and chubby arms

A patting of the hand;

I cannot cease to see these charms, 

Please give me your demands.


Lo, your kiss, the softest touch,

More fine than any mist;

When laid upon me, gladly won,

Unable to resist.


You whisper dear, a dialect,

I read your face to know

The thoughts relayed as music there,

And carefully transpose.


No moment lost, though meaning still

Perceived through widened eyes,

With hands out splayed, receive the rain

Poured as the eves drip dry.


Your scribbling's a masterpiece,

Your singing's heaven's song;

You're awful when you're really bad, 

But still, you do no wrong.


You fill my moments happiness,

Residual as dew.

Atop the trees and forest floor,

The morning whispers sweet of you.


Your love fills me deep with pride,

A circle of devotion;

Running just as does the tide

And back into the ocean.


Birds have sung and stars have shined

For many other loves than mine,

But never did they do so well

As when you caused my heart to swell.


You travel like a little cloud,

And thunderously laughing loud,

You fill my sky, you fill my eyes; 

My son, you make me proud.


I thank God for all the things

Which brought me to this day.

It was a hard and heavy load,

You stole that all away.


You are the most complex of all the

Many things I've seen.

You're beautiful, you're marvelous, 

You're every mother's dream.

---

Written Sometime around 2005 and dedicated to my two beautiful sons.