The Pearly Cradle

If soared beside a pearly cradled rose
therein a rattling joy; o' stillborn child.
What uttered mine - unsaid angelic prose;
when passing lays my husk, and essence wild?

Awaiting yonder womb were tepid wings;
with bonding warmth, a-light of pater love
as softly feathered pads and rocking swings
so known that sun aglow, remains above.

O' babe, the wailing music! How I sought
for more a sleepless dusk - had since apart
The elfin gazes never blossomed wrought
but taken here and strolled in golden cart.

If words in amber fail and infant pine
embrace the gilded spectrum; souled as mine.