Poetry

You
Missed as the very
Breath of life

Bouncing
Bubbly ways
Never a moment
To boredom
In your shadow

Miss
The long, floating eyes
And sensual silences
The fevered evenings
Then the morning's blanket

So, to your adventures
And wonderings in the dark
I wait by our rock
To breathe again.

She stood tall with her lizard-like skin
unafraid of the scorching sun
yet I felt sorry for her
the way one might feel sorry for an ant
before stepping on it.

Nightfall sailed like a lanky insurance salesman
unafraid of the barking dogs
but I only could pine for her as they lunch on the dead ants.

Hush, little baby
That can't be free
Hush, baby hush
Don't cry
Your daddy takes your life
As your mother watches you die
So hush, little baby
Life was never yours to be
And you don't know why.

Holy, holy, holy
Daddy is God's messenger
And touches you
Touches you with the light
Yet you sit so melancholy
My holy child
How many get to be Jesus' Daughter?
This is your birthright,
Yet you sit so melancholy.
Holy, holy, holy
By all that is holy
forced to be his wife
At the cost of your life.