Poetry

I used to write poetry all the time. Volumes. Now its a only very occasionly thing. But here goes

Sweet boy. Lying next to me
Smelling of milk.
Do you understand the
Ferocity
Of my love?
The cities I would burn
For your smile?
You are the last great
Love
Of my life.
Your daddy was the first.
So sleep
Sweet boy.
Dreaming baby dreams
As I kiss your forehead.