All I See Is You: Poems and Proses on Motherhood (Jessica Urlichs: Early Motherhood Poetry & Prose Collection Book 2)

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True valour still a true respect should have; Then my digression is so vile, so base, That it will live engraven in my face. The respect you owe me will put this desire to rest, help you to see yourself clearly, and force you to pity me. Her books continue to grace the homes of thousands around the world and have proven to make a very popular gift for mothers at all stages of their journey, resonating mostly on early motherhood, with her most popular poem of all time, 'All I See Is You'.

Shameful it is; ay, if the fact be known: Hateful it is; there is no hate in loving: I'll beg her love; but she is not her own: The worst is but denial and reproving: My will is strong, past reason's weak removing. Jealous people love getting what they don't have—going so far as to let go of anything they do have. This deed will make thee only loved for fear; But happy monarchs still are fear'd for love: With foul offenders thou perforce must bear, When they in thee the like offences prove: If but for fear of this, thy will remove; For princes are the glass, the school, the book, Where subjects' eyes do learn, do read, do look. Wrapp'd and confounded in a thousand fears, Like to a new-kill'd bird she trembling lies; She dares not look; yet, winking, there appears Quick-shifting antics, ugly in her eyes: Such shadows are the weak brain's forgeries; Who, angry that the eyes fly from their lights, In darkness daunts them with more dreadful sights. She says, her subjects with foul insurrection Have batter'd down her consecrated wall, And by their mortal fault brought in subjection Her immortality, and made her thrall To living death and pain perpetual: Which in her prescience she controlled still, But her foresight could not forestall their will.You'll be hated for and ashamed of what you did, and you'll hate yourself for being prideful enough to do it.

Without the bed her other fair hand was, On the green coverlet; whose perfect white Show'd like an April daisy on the grass, With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night.I also needed many moments to gather myself after the series of emotional punches that Urlichs' writing throws at the reader.

I see what crosses my attempt will bring; I know what thorns the growing rose defends; I think the honey guarded with a sting; All this beforehand counsel comprehends: But will is deaf and hears no heedful friends; Only he hath an eye to gaze on beauty, And dotes on what he looks, 'gainst law or duty. Yet, foul night-waking cat, he doth but dally, While in his hold-fast foot the weak mouse panteth: Her sad behavior feeds his vulture folly, A swallowing gulf that even in plenty wanteth: His ear her prayers admits, but his heart granteth No penetrable entrance to her plaining: Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining.When his lust was burning, nothing could cool him off or rein him in— not until he got tired of his own depravity. So he gathered all his strength , encouraged by his own lighthearted rejection of the image of Collatine in his mind.