Her subjects rapt

Her subjects rapt

Outside all day the world turns white, snow settles, 
night falls fast. Just strings of lights remain, outlining the pier. 

But here's the focus, softer lit,  where battle is enjoined. 
Taut in her neck the veins are roped

a mother’s summoned strength

then a sixpenny circle, baby’s head

the counting of the breaths

an even heartbeat rhythm, undistressed

now all the head astonishing

slow turn and slither, vernix shrink-wrapped girl. She's here!

And soon, brow knitted in a million wonderings

she looks upon her world, from fierce unblinking eyes

a queen upon her subjects

rapt

entirely in her thrall.

7th February 2013, Brighton. For Elisabetta Mae, born 18/ 01/13