For nine months I carried you.
Love's wonder, so true,
a bundle of smallness,
like a dove, he flew.
*
Those days were my first,
a hope's radiant ray,
a tiny soul within me,
yearning love every day.
The feeling of life,
growing inside of me with grace,
elated my heart,
yet birth's anxious embrace.
*
A normal feat it seemed,
a memory, now aged,
my first son,
as time's book was paged.
First sons are meant to be
brave hearts in the fray.
He still battles with life,
seeing it as a challenge each day.
*
Also published on Medium.com
About the Creator
Denise Larkin
A writer of a BA with honours (2.1) in Arts & Humanities recently gained a Creative Writing Master's Degree. She writes poetry, fictional short stories, and is the author of the Time to Run series, Darkness and The Non-Human.<aT.
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