Senses

Touched by his sense, gifted by God,
Held by his father, together they plod,
Reaching for my cheek, a softness to his kiss,
His touch is so tender, so totally bliss.

He listens to my voice, what does he hear?
I wish it’s my courage, more so than my fear,
He travels from Madrid to visit his brother,
Seen as his equal there is no need to smother.

I prepare him some food, how will it taste?
He devours it completely, leaving no waste,
This pleases me immensely, smiling to show me,
I have done good, this fills me with glee.

His head wanders knowingly, what does he smell?
Unable to see, like a child in a well,
Aromas in the air, flowers and incense,
Unlimited senses, a boundary no fence.

A brief moment in time, his touch in my heart,
For here it will stay, never to part,
Making this world brighter, ridding its tenses,
For you bring a lightness, with all of your senses.

The Brighton to London Poet

© 2005 MCARB