Sunday Sonnet

Home Birth

Awake, aware, amazed; eyes wide with awe
he slipped into the hands of love so smooth
no screaming team to terrorize and maul
just loving arms to nourish hold and sooth

Surrounded by a cloak of nature's heat
no artificial lights to blind and baffle
love flowed over brow wrinkled and sweet
as heated caramel flowing on the apple

The hands that held him first were his mother's
her gentle voice the one that beckoned him to grow
he bypassed all the terror of the others
the epoch of his life gentle and slow

Emerging from the womb his life commenced
with gentleness and peace and common sense

Here is April's sonnet over at A Muse In Me! See how we were in sync this week!



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