No Lullaby |
By Peggy Asher |
No satin ribboned tiny booties.
No small, soft hand to grasp my finger. Only memories of what might have been. Try to put aside; in my heart they linger. No silky curls to brush from your face. No cherub lips to drink from my breast. I yearn to smell your softened skin. Yet I know my fantasies must be put to rest. No lullaby comes from my aching throat. My heart sings out with a mournful song. I fight to grasp what could have been. Cold reality sinks in with a harsh refrain… Life must go on… |