Mothers Milk


Rivers ripe with mothers milk, the veins of her great design splice for the creatures she bares.
A child's face, fresh, untouched by man's crooked scheme
A gaze that no power made can remove
A gaze of wonder
Of intrigue
Of unspoiled thoughts
Soon those thoughts will fade with made demands and false desires
Will he ever again dawn this face?
The face I had years and years ago
The face I now only remember when I catch it on my own child
In silent observance of innocence, not remembering its taste and witnessing a distant memory wash back out into the depths of lost ideas

  • Author: Just10 (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 13th, 2016 13:40
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 31
  • User favorite of this poem: Augustus.



    WELCOME "J" ~ and thanks for a well penned and philosophical first poem. I was breast fed and my Mum tells me I always made a meal of it ! The innocence in the face of a child is fleeting and soon replaced by the care lines of life. I don't have any kids (yet) but when i do I hope to glimpse my lost innocence in the trust in their eyes. Yours BRIAN. lease check my poem DECISIONS ~ Thanks B

    • Just10

      Thank you for your comment and kind words Brian! I will make sure to check out your work and leave a comment as well.

    • Augustus

      Your tribute to and description of innocence is so tender, yet profound. Every line was nourishing. Thanks for sharing.

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