Simplicities
A poem about the subtle nature of love
By Patricia Ranee Published 10 months ago • 1 min read
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Photo by Tobe Mokolo on Unsplash
All I want is your kiss,
your lips.
Your hand on me,
hard grip to my hips.
A hug from you is gold to hold;
the love you pour can’t ever grow old.
My life with you—
Your life with me—
it led us to a life of ‘we’.
All I want in this old life,
is to hold you dear as you call me “wife”.
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OF MOTHERHOOD.
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