Decree

One quick but delicate pattern
becomes a rhythm of hope
faster than before
softer within my heart
A prayer of wanting more
turns into guilty greed
but a stroke of permanent blush
is something that I need
I feel a sudden rush
my hand protects the womb
holding a firm decree
which I will know too soon
My gratefulness renewed
as I dream, hope, pray and think
will his eyes be blue
or will her smile be pink