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Time slow, painful, how long it must have been
Waiting for them, all this new and obscene.
Hours pass by, comfort never ever so bad
Until the time, no return now, it’s mad.
Unknown future, as they welcome one more
The tears and emotion, she is so raw.
Pityful noise, defenseless as can be
Tiny, covered in white, is now so free.
Heart to warm skin, feeling of her, serene
Slumber to her warm breast, you can now dream.
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Phil lister 07/06/18
listerspoetry@gmail.com
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