Skin on skin

I love sleeping with my babies.
They no longer fit the category of baby,
but always smile
when I refer to them as such.

My son knows he is special
as he made me a mummy.
My daughter knows she is special
as she is my last baby.

I tell them all the time,
how they are loved and treasured.
I even whisper these messages as they sleep,
which often prompts a dreamy smile.

Sleeping with my babies,
is like giving a tree sunshine and rain.
It feeds me to smell and hear them beside me,
to have their presence fill all my senses.

Most of all I love their skin.
Soft and smooth like wind swept snow.
In their sleep their bodies seek mine,
and a limb always finds me in my own slumber.

As new born souls,
their skin upon mine strengthened bonds.
Now to experience skin on skin,
we continue to share pieces of each other.

One day they will wince,
when referred to as my babies.
They will view me as an old tree,
while I bask in their sun showers.

For now, this tree knows
that the branches wrapped around her babies,
is preciously desired until they seek
to only shelter in my shade.