Emma

The static hours of night she keeps
Locked up inside her sheets,
And so much like a child she sleeps,
Contented and at peace.

She does not move and barely stirs
Her eyelids for her dreams,
I wonder what her mind conceives
Behind those fleshy seams.

Perhaps a world of puppy dogs,
As every infant knows,
Rotates those tired cerebral cogs
Till pleasure overflows.

Or maybe plain old paradise
With Eden at its core,
Has found a home inside her head,
Has found a home and more.

Reviews

[sette]

at first, i interpret the poem comparing to a baby asleep but later on it symbolizes something else that even a baby can find his way home.

[Adam Latham]

Thank you, Sette. I wrote this poem a few years ago after my niece was born. :)