by Pemily
Maybe I’m just romanticising
The motherhood of it all
But wouldn’t it be just a dream
To be nestled by her, to be held
To hear her purring in pure joy
While I curl up for the fall
She is broody almost all the time
It’s her purpose and greatest gift
The gift of loving each in her nest
And not leaving one to neglect
The trills she makes while sleeping
Also a white noise to my dreams
I’ll awaken with my hard shelled clan
To the low rumble of her good morning
While the sun shimmers in
Setting her blazing crown alight
It’s time to go about her day
Though keeping eyes on us is a must
Preen
Polish
nourish and nestle
Over and over again
One day the warmth of her love
and bright red feathers
Will start a little tremble
Then there will be a crack
And a breaking of the silence
A chirp and then another
‘Til we’re all up and at ‘em
@pem2paper Pemily is a queer, Brisbane based artist, exploring their emotions and trauma through creativity and new found love for poetry. Anyway, bok bok bok, and so the story goes.