Sipping coffee alone in a crowded room
And across with sanguine cheeks of glee
She sat there with son aside
Kissing his cheeks and fingers
Him giggling with joy
Carefree and innocent
It all almost brought me to tears
She was beautiful and he was perfect
Seeing mothers with their children
And fathers with theirs
It all awakens a longing
And I try to avoid it for fear of mistake and wrong timing
But my children wait in me to be born
They wait for their father to come and bring them to life
And it was her face and her son that uncovered
That longing most deep within...
2 comments:
Of all your poems this one is truly touching. Careful with some of the stanzas. Are your pickin's that slim or are your standards too high? Not that you should lower your standards but (as a guy) we can only get so high then we regress to adolescence..its just nature.
I do have very high standards, but I think I'm slowly starting to get a better grip of what is realistic versus what is only a chimerical dream. And no, the pickings are not slim, there are just too many wrong men that pursue me. Just looking for someone who will be a great husband and father who will love me and any kids we have unconditionally. Such love seems to be rare...
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