Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Bassinet Symphony

REST, rest, blossoming one
Close you eyes, and dream young son
The moonlight brightens you face
And traces without disgrace

Innocence and beauty abound
On a chubby face, o so round
Soft cheeks, angelic grace
You drift off to an imaginary place

Of what do you dream
Silently cooing, sinlessness supreme
With tiny hands that rest on cheek
Rosy red and o so meek

Smiles will creep
Even in your sleep
O beautiful child when thee wake
I will be here, make no mistake

*Just playing with new styles here and yes, I "copied" Blake. The original poem is here:

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