Treasure Island

Cecelia Weir

(March 19,1955 / Fayette, Alabama)

Baby Breath


The birds were singing
You could hear grass growing
Your soul could feel heaven
As a gentle little breeze
Was occationally blowing.

As I taken him within my arms
Holding him ever so close
His anxiousness excitingly
Showing through his spirit
As he extended his arms towards me.

I felt his lashes
Gently blink
As he laid upon my breast.
I felt his breath
Deeply sniffed
As he gently slept
Yet firmly
I felt his caress.

His warmth
His love
I felt within.
His care
His concerns
Pounded within my heart
As I held him
Deeper than close.

When he awakened
His eyes met mine
Revealing beyond
Sleeps deep imagination.
I felt his love penetrate
I knew his need
I surrendered
And I began to feed
His silent request
With tenderness and anticipation.
I humbled myself
I respected the ambience
And submitted to my instinct
A woman's obligation.

The breath of life
The beatuty of life
The trust of considertion.
To have and to hold
Ones total control
You hold wihin your arms
The heart of anothers soul.
The sounds of the unheard
The stories of the untold
The bindings of only the soul.

Submitted: Tuesday, July 08, 2008
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