In a message dated 08/14/2004 5:09:43 AM, [log in to unmask] writes:
<<
Cradle Song
I imagine my mother's arms
holding her belly, her breasts
swollen with milk. She's singing ---
I thought it was Schubert
but it's Brahms --- the lullaby.
There are rosebuds. Waking
is God's will. Angels watch us.
She prays for a boy. >>
I love your poem; its simple loving message. But my milk didn't come in
until after birth.
kol tuv, Ryfkah
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