Friday, January 18, 2008

Bella

Her brown eyes speak to me
in a language older than time.
Baby-fine and brown,
her hair is a tangle play about her face
brushing the blush of her cheek.

She tilts her head.
She juts her chin
with the confidence of a beloved five-year-old.

And she is beloved,
beloved by me.
And I am blessed to be her Mommy.

Veracious insights trip from those little lips
like the sweet breath of spring.
She opens up the world to me.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Now I LOVE this. I can completely relate to the feelings of watching your child in awe and being so overcome by what this little person can teach you about the world. Beautiful! I want a copy to place next to Sonnet 1.
Sa

alicewonderland said...

Uh, Sonnet One. I wonder where my copy is of that. I don't even know if it is any good. But I love that poem, because it is you. And it is the first love poem I wrote where the subject did not break my heart.

Anonymous said...

It's very good! And I have a framed copy if you need to see it again. it's up in the office on my desk.