We finished painting the extra room.
A baby on the way.
I painted the ceiling.
You painted the walls.
Putting my hand in your hand.
I just looked at our clasped hands.
I told you look at our hands.
She looked at the splatters of paint.
It looks like we have the whole world in our hands.
I said It looks that way.
I don't want to hold the whole world in my hand.
I want to just hold you
hold our baby
that's my world.
that's all I need.
Standing in the finished room.
A contest entry
- Contest for cherche -d -ame by HeavenScent4U.
1050 points, ended June 18, 2008, 8 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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thank you for penning this.Even though we are strangers....the scene which you describe is very close to one I can relate to....years ago and fortunately 2 beautiful children later and still the same husband with whom I was painting the nursery. Will forget that the paint fumes almost caused a miscarriage...oooouuuffff...I was lucky
thanks again,
reenie
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