Today I sat hoping to create
an ode worthy of your being
for many a fortnight have passed barren
of homage to equal your grace
only in prose uncomposed prayer
when my heart speaks in utmost silence
that hardly contains my gratitude
to Heaven, I submit in meekness.
Today I welcomed the calming quiet
to hear your gentlest hush
that I might write your unborn message
to us longing your soft first touch
perhaps there’ll be more dawns to greet
wordless passings, titters of tidings
before our hands do finally meet
and endless tales at bedtime take shape.
Tomorrow awaits a promise to make
an ode for you my purest gift
that words might cap all goodness and grace
that Heaven and we to you bequeath
so wake and scribble your softest touch
or with your sweet slumber caress our face
as we look on to when we hold
our hearts, our souls, as one grand embrace.
