The very dew of life lies soft and low,
Its faint humidity is mist to mind.
All of love’s senses must converge and grow,
As saplings that find and bind, a life intertwined.
Comes in from Nature as that is the base,
Upheaving the thick paint, pastels and a dove,
In the flush of your cheeks and the hue of all races,
Its the Northern Lights unleashed to color our love.
The most beautiful thing you will ever behold
Is the face of your child just a few hours old,
It’s a moment in life that can’t be foretold,
Six loves intertwined and made manifold.
Crack the shell of self love to another,
Bridges to each other, mother, son or lover.
Tom Hall recently retired from a career as a grant writer. Educated in literary criticism, but has always wondered if he might be one of "those that can". He is honored to be published for the first time by Carcinogenic Poetry.
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