Promptly 4

Lost

Lost

Oh, bright the sparkling light of that first dawn
when we, the babe, do greet our wak’ning morn
with lusty cries, indignant, angry fists,
and bleary eyes clamped tight against the mists.

Our solace then our mother’s warming breast,
so beats the heart from chest to tiny chest
till mild and gentle sleep the sobs doth soothe,
our anger stilled in consolation smooth.

How soon those birthing moments lost to time
do fade beneath life’s mesmerising rhyme
our former home of comfort tightly wound
forgotten now behind the daily round.


Line count: 12
Form: Sonnet, iambic pentameter, rhymed aabb
For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 29 2024
Prompt: Lost.