Scribing a circle around love



21/10/16 Two poems "A handful of love" and "To love him justly"

A handful of love


I can hold it in my hand,

its entirety fitting neatly 

in the hollow of my palm,

it sounds inconsequential,

but it impacts everything.




To love him justly


This small thing that now means so much,

how can it be that once I was unmoved

by it?

Once, when it was new, I did not care for it.

This precious, irreplaceable, unimaginable 


so beautiful, incredibly rare and pure...

and I had no time for it.


What kind of monster was I

to not love my own son?


Now I make amends.

Every day I smother his cheeks in kisses.

I squeeze him to me

like a child with its favourite plush toy.

I live for his laughter

and I drown in his eyes.

This angel of mine.


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