Your birthday suit was pink,
silky wet - and didn't
need ironing.
Your hair gleamed, flourescent
highlights glaring upon us;
how we craved the dark.
Heavy upon my heart
beating breast, skin contact
was a riptide
stealing my soul.
I've born two others since
but you were the first, my
little heart thief;
your dark curls wrapping around
my seeking fingers. Flesh
begetting flesh,
you showed me the wonder
of life, of creation,
like no god could
Vikki Louise
Oaths, black as the midnight sky
snatch life from my tongue.
Anger boils, volcanic
hotter than the pain
erupting from toy encrusted foot.
And I wonder - why bother?
A tonka truck fit for the scrapyard
driven by
A headless Barbie
(better than legless I suppose!)
A mama doll blissfully silent -
just money down the drain.
And since when did I become judge and jury?
'Abjudicator of Squabbles'
whose decisions never please.
"It's not fair"........?
YOU'RE TELLING ME!
I didn't ask to be referee.
Nor did I realise
the gem of motherhood
would be a multi faceted
profession.
Apron strings too tight
Purse strings too loose.
You bray like a donkey
whinge like a yapping dog
you've as much sense
as a moth in the flame.
Ha! - Kid's - who'd 'ave 'em?
Me - that's who.
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