Lullaby at Bethlem
You have come at last,
-rest in the hay-
The pain was of wanting you,
Now you must stay.
Your eyes like dark pools,
-rest in the hay-
See me think how to keep you,
so you must stay.
Your fingers are searching,
-rest in the hay-
For my hand that will hold you
Safe for your stay.
The pulse in your scalp,
-rest in the hay-
Beats out a signal for us
That you’ll stay.
Your lips’ grip on my breast,
-rest in the hay-
Tightens my heart round
Your shape. Oh stay.
I will never leave you
-rest in the hay-
I’ll bind myself to each minute,
Cradle your stay.
Luke 2 Verse 19
But Mary treasured up all these things
Carole Jacobs, Broniwan, Wales
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