Seil Chat

Unborn though not unloved:

Pluck a tear from both my eyes,
use your hands my unborn child
but don't be sad

For these are fruits
from happy trees that grow,
deep down within my heart
and in my soul

I will stand like all that mass,
when first you take a gulp of air,
with crimson lips yet still unformed

And I shall weep my fruits-
unashamedly ripe upon the ground

I love your mother

Hi Fingal. I think this is terrific piece. Very moving. Hope you'll be posting more on the forum Cheers.

superb fingal love it


teddy

Thanks for your lovely feedback.

I am looking forward to putting some more on here, and reading more as well!

Fingal

Hi Fingal

That really is quite beautiful, and very touching, looking forward to seeing more!