[Corneac]

In my arms I enclose her,
Her whole body the width of my palms,
Her clenching delicate fingers
around my thumb,
Holding bar to prior qualms,

Her eyes flutter slightly open,
A butterfly prepares to fly,
Revealing wings of startling azure
I fall,
Into her soaring eye,

We rock back and forth,
The swell's gentle swaying motion,
Upon this ship are just her and I,
Floating
on this calm secluded ocean,

A wad of cloth and quilted hope
and the fire's spitting crackle,
Warming a moment seized
by us
and the fraying blanket's shackle,

I put my lips against her forehead,
A kiss that reaches to her nose,
The milky scent of rebirth,
Her skin's a shrivelled
wilting rose,

I watch over the whispering hilltops
to Apollo's falling stone,
An orange ball, illuminated,
Cast against
the sky's rippled tone,

Rocking back and forth
with her still in my arms,
We fall,
Soaring, drowning, but still warm,
into slumbers' waving calms,

[Eadha Deora]

This was truly beautiful ... fresh and bright, tangible yet dream-like. The whole poem was like a journey of unfolding life and light. This is a piece you should commit to memory, to share whenever the moment is right. It would befit a soft whisper in the early morning hours.

[Eadha Deora]

Also .... it seems to be read two ways .. either a lover with lover .. or a parent with newborn child. Makes me feel a mushy and melty inside, hehe.

[Corneac]

Thankyou Eadha! That means a lot coming from you. Yes I guess it can be read two ways... Thanks again.

[Eadha Deora]

well .. the rocking motion ... either love-making .. or rocking a child to sleep. That was what made it hard to distinguish. As well as the description of "her" being so petite and sweet and sleepy.

[angel]

so beautiful corn it doesnt need a title. good stuff mate

kel

[Corneac]

Yes...or maybe I just couldn't think of one Kel. Thanks all.

[Venomous Vixen]

Really you owe this one a title (don't worry I will spare you my ideas ) Beautiful, seriously, and rhyme fits well on you... not overly done or forced but just added to the flow. By far my favorite part-

I watch over the whispering hilltops
to Apollo's falling stone,
An orange ball, illuminated,
Cast against
the sky's rippled tone,

The whole stanza is just perfect, and the use of Apollo's name gives the entire piece a dreamlike feel. Have I mentioned I hate you haha seriously though, incredible work.