I don't know if you are a parent or not, but I guess that conflict is the point. I feel joy and love for this creature that I don't know, and yet I also feel fear that it will destroy my very way of existence. "(a poem for my unborn child)" is part of the title, and is not meant for sympathy.  It's meant to prepare the reader for a cute nursery rhyme, which is not what I intend to provide. But I suppose if I have to explain the poem, then it's not very effective. I will take your criticism into consideration and revisit it when I get the chance. Thanks for your time.

I agree that it doesn't all flow together too well. I think I sometimes write too rigidly, and try to force the words into a structure, rather than letting my thoughts bleed onto the page organically, or in a way that makes sense at the very least. I appreciate your time. Hopefully I will get a chance to make some edits soon.

This is a work full of raw and mixed emotion, and it comes through, specifically, from the tender desire to keep the unborn "warm and fed" but also to encourage its "thirst for blood" and for it to bare its teeth. It feels feral and wild, and also jarringly ambivalent. The capturing of the uncertainty of the anticipated but unknown is there, certainly. However, it loses its power and becomes adulterated somewhat with the mixed imagery, shifting from the plant to herbivore and beyond. I like the inclusion of all appetites, and the reassurance and endorsement on the part of the mother narrator, but I think it needs more substance to transition between them without feeling jolted. The experience of pregnancy can be this secretive, exclusive experience, and providing a window into it can be immensely powerful and I think you are on the right track. The vulnerability and radical acceptance embraced in the last stanza is piercing. I think the conflict of joy/fear that comes through in that l

Oh little seed,
Your roots they spread.
Your mother is the sun and soil
That keeps you warm and fed.

I am the tree
From which you fell,
So come and grow with me
Upon this cold and lonesome hill.


Oh little fawn,
Your fur grows thick.
This world can be a cold one,
But it's got nothing on you, kid.

On darkest nights,
When you are scared,
Reach out your skinny, little hooves
And you will find us there.


Oh little beast,
Your hunger swells.
Don't be ashamed for what you are,
Your thirst for blood I know it well.

So bare your teeth,
When you see fit.
You'll be fierce and yet so full of love,
Just like your mother is.


Oh little seed,
Your roots they grow.
Straight through my skin,
Wrapped tight around my bones.

Dig in my mind,
Tear me apart,
And bury yourself deep within my heart.


https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/87yua7/incapable/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/87xhrr/fuzzy_no_more/

Little Seed (a poem for my unborn child)