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Twilight Hour Cuddles

A Poem from a Mother to Her Son

By L. M. WilliamsPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
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A pale grey glow peering around the curtains,

the hush and murmur of a quiet home.

Ten tiny fingers curl around a stretched shirt collar

reassuring you that love is always close.

A noisy anxious mind quiets

as your tiny head grows heavy,

resting on a shoulder that shall always carry you

with whatever weight may bear down on you.

Quiet tiny breathes become an early morning lullaby,

resounded by the rapid humming bird wing patter

of your tiny heart against a chest that swells

with more and more love with each beat of yours.

Tired eye lids droop,

the rocking chair slows in it's pace.

Before the world wakes,

after you have suckled to contentment

and have dozed off into a gentle sweet slumber,

comes the encouragement to a sleep deprived mother.

It is a silent confirmation

no matter how long the nights may be

no matter how many shirts have spittle stains

no matter how sore sucked nipples become

that she has created something beautiful.

It is a softly spoken affirmation

she has succeeded in another day

to shower you with love

to provide you with protection.

to give you every joy you can have.

It's the peaceful memory making moment.

It is the breath of motherhood.

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About the Creator

L. M. Williams

I'm a self-published author that enjoys writing fantasy/supernatural/romance novels and occasionally dabble in poetry and realistic fiction. If not writing, I'm a freelance artist and a full time mom.

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