Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2011
God ties a ribbon;
upon my mother's womb.
As she waits for a tiny gift, (her only wish)
to arrive soon.
        My presence comes,
        but her patience goes.
                        The gift,
                         blessedly unraveling as time flows.
Always unwrapping,
                                                       beauty is slow.
My sweet mama,
                                                       what beauty could she know?
Shasta Lee
Written by
Shasta Lee
687
   Weeping willow
Please log in to view and add comments on poems