Mother And Child Poem by Gert Strydom

On one of the back benches in church
I see a young girl
unbuttoning the top of her blouse
with slender white fingers
to let her baby drink.

His sleepy blue eyes opens
and his small lips suck
on a swollen nipple
and mother and child
is framed into my mind
like the painting of the Madonna
and milk streams into him
while the congregation sings.

She gazes as through time
with uplifted head,
giving him power, the love of God
as if fixed to the spot while praying
and giving him milk.

She tenderly touch the baby
with every movement
echoing great love
and he settles sleeping
and a smile of tranquillity
is on her face.