Sunday, March 20, 2011

My Blessed Valentine

My blessed valentine,
You are of my blood
Yet you are composed
From different strains,
Uniqueness, some would say,
Peculiarity, others may flavor,
But you are my finest hour,
The moment I cradled you between my arms,
Such delicate fabric,
Knowing nothing but trust,
The constructs of fear and mistrust
Have yet to enter the matrix of her brain,
No connection to reality
She floats and move as if she’s floating,
Ignoring the air surrounding,
For this wearied and tiresome
Straggler through the trail of life,
This little pumpkin has sprouted and reignited
A passion, a flower blooms now
All with the voiceless mission to watch this stem develop
Into the flower she will achieve someday,
For a man so down swung, commiserated with anger and strife
She’s the magic potion sent to up lift a once proud, yet currently deflated life.

No comments:

Post a Comment