My labor is met with
Shallow breaths
Pushing a figure
Not eager to budge
The push of birth
Long and belabored
In the end I am endeared
To my beloved child
Poems, as if an infant
I’m completely infatuated with
Consumed by, endeared too
Poems are a birthed as well
Protective of my creation I
Rise at once to the occasion
The poem lives on
She to is beloved