Pouty lips seek tender breasts;
her womb's delicate fruit drinks.
In trusting hold of infant fingers,
her eternal yearning quenched.
Author notes
20 words; Prompt "Delicate".
What more delicate, than the eternal thirst for motherhood in every woman, and its happy quenching at the sight of her womb's fruit?
A contest entry
- PIF: prompt inspirted; 20 words; 20 entries by Grey Mouser.
450 points, ended February 27, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
With much sacrifice and a grand amount of nurturing this young person grows strong in the love of the mother and familiy. Nicely written and thanks for entering into the contest.
Be well and be blessed,
Mouser
Adding your comment:
