— by Rita Goodgame —
Swaddled bundle, warm in my arms,
wise wondering eyes, soft sighs,
who is this living miracle claiming my heart?
Baby breath, quivering blush lips,
innocent babe cradled with lullabies,
dependent upon your new mother
who trembles with joy and knows
she will never ever be the same.
“All God’s angels come to us in disguise.”
© 2010 Rita Goodgame. All rights reserved