poem 4 my son (Remove filter)
Holding Your Tiny Hands {Cody}
{Holding Your Tiny Hands}{Cody}
My dearest son,
I remember when you was born at 12:30 p.m. December 17
And then the doctor's laid you on my chest and as I wrapped you up in my arms and kissing your small tiny hands and face as the happy tears flowed down my cheeks
And then I started to count your small fingers and toes making sure all of them was there
...
Thursday 28th June 2018 10:53 am
Recent Comments
Larisa Rzhepishevska on My Crazy September Love
4 hours ago
Rick Varden on The Deepest Cut
13 hours ago
David RL Moore on Joining the idiots
15 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Joining the idiots
15 hours ago
David RL Moore on Katalambanō
16 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Here are the names of all the poets in our Echoes competition anthology
22 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Body on the Carpet
22 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on The power of wildflowers
22 hours ago
Greg Freeman on Body on the Carpet
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on Cleaver of Devil’s Kitchen
1 day ago