You are sitting there,
lovely,
in your worn out jeans and T-shirt.
Your wild hair and freckles I know so well.
I search your face for the baby I once nursed and
a flood of memories come.
Holding, laughing, crying, loving,
they cling to my heart,
squeezing it tightly until the love
I have for you begins to flow a little out of my eyes.
I pray for clinging, collecting memories
right there on my heart.
You were sitting there,
lovely.
4 comments:
So touching. It's lovely!
Lovely, Stunning and tugs just right where it is suppose too
Beautiful.
The girl and the words.
sonja, your poetry always makes me cry. always.
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