In that milky pout of bubble,
which births from your tiny
lips, there rests a purity
of
being; timeless, ancient, bliss
which resonates through
centuries as life's perfect
kiss;
where virgin beginning, lives
in fragile hope of tender years,
before translucent hope can drift.
https://dversepoets.com/2017/08/28/quadrille-39/
https://dversepoets.com/2017/08/28/quadrille-39/
It's a long time since I blissed out on this - but with my first grandchild coming, I'm looking forward to it from a new perspective!
ReplyDelete"timeless, ancient, bliss" ... your poem is a beautiful way of putting words to the wonder of new life...Janice (Ontheland)
ReplyDeleteOh I really love what you captured here... and maybe you see that bliss so much more with a grandchild than your own.
ReplyDeleteNo, the bliss for me was the same with children. I really enjoyed my children and really enjoy grandchildren but they are different. There is something exquisitely special about your own child.
DeleteOh Roslyn, this is wonderful. I was there marveling at that baby with you.
ReplyDelete...and I've had six children and my youngest is 9 - and he still lets me hug him :) Yes, bliss indeed
ReplyDeleteLove the soft and tender write. I look forward someday of having grandchildren.
ReplyDelete