Fruit inside sacred feminine
from pagan lust to holy height,
fled its cocoon, found our solace in
I hide my pain behind the moon.
Ragged anger chiselled my tears,
curves in this heart; ransom of bliss,
our pentacle just fell apart -
rage fills my fears,
rapt or release, deliverance
came at a price.
Guardian of life, I feel your wings
Anchored forever in my soul;
Before your might I need to grieve,
Re-seal this wound with love and hope -
Inside my heart you'll ALWAYS live,
Eden, my love, remains our home,
Lit by the stars, your watchful eyes, my dear angel.
Poet's note: Seventeen weeks of sheer happiness marred by sudden loss. There is nothing worse than losing one's own flesh. Since then, "Baby Hall" lives in heaven.