Poems About Birth by New Members
#birth
Poems about birth by new members. Poems written by members who joined within the last 30 days.
Mars_August
Mars August
Mars August
Poem Published
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
My Mother's Poem
I came here as a Sunday morning,
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
#birth
#family
#healing
#love
#mother
59 reads
1 Comment
Mars_August
Mars August
Mars August
Poem Published
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
My Mother's Poem
I came here as a Sunday morning,
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
#birth
#family
#healing
#love
#mother
59 reads
1 Comment
Mars_August
Mars August
Mars August
Poem Published
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
My Mother's Poem
I came here as a Sunday morning,
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
#birth
#family
#healing
#love
#mother
59 reads
1 Comment
Mars_August
Mars August
Mars August
Poem Published
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
My Mother's Poem
I came here as a Sunday morning,
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
#birth
#family
#healing
#love
#mother
59 reads
1 Comment
Mars_August
Mars August
Mars August
Poem Published
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
21st Nov 2024 2:51pm
My Mother's Poem
I came here as a Sunday morning,
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
too quickly
for your sleeping doctor to rise in time.
Your younger sister caught me,
in bare palms,
and you both laughed through awed tears.
She loves to tell that story, her
unpracticed hands
enough shield and cradle for two.
I do not ever ask where my father is,
or when he arrives to hold us both
because I also inherited our
hourglass wounds
from carrying a wedding bouquet
of someone else’s pain to my body.
And so if they want to leave, I let them
leave.
Mother,...
#birth
#family
#healing
#love
#mother
59 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Poems About Birth by New Members
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