Fortunate child,
born wonderment to a mother’s grace
Heavenly smiles,
reflections mimic each parent’s face
Image formed,
given to likeness of the Creator’s mold
Mirroring style,
portrays your destine in future’s hold
Fortunate child,
slumbered hush caresses bundled joy
Bassinet chimes,
musical tones from a key wound toy
Blanketed lull,
blessed with dreams for tomorrow’s sake
Serenade score,
peacefully plays till eyes come to wake
Fortunate child,
years pass unnoticed throughout your days
Awaited dreams,
forged perfections clinging to wishful ways
Tearfully mourned,
hopes placed to wayside go unseen
Intensely grasp,
lay no misfortune upon a silver sheen
Fortunate child,
purity of heart will present your fate
Passionately seek,
shun the villainy as longed fortunes wait
Forever trust,
give voice to Heaven in solemn prayer
Gracefully bow,
earnest whispers delivered to Father’s care
© C.E. Vance
Make my wight = 8 lbs
Make my wight = 8 lbs so that I could be the child in my mom's arms carried to any direction my dainty fingers point to !! I like your words "forged perfections" and earlier "creators mould" What a mould that must have been which is still making babies !!!!! (On the lighter side of course) Good write up.
©bishu
Thank you, Bishu. This is as
Thank you, Bishu. This is as I imagine things to be.
Cevance -- I am happy I got the hang of your poem
Cevance -- I am happy I got the hang of your poem.
©bishu