Tags

, , , , , ,

Dream Land

Capricious, precocious, dancing one
no cradle can hold you for long.
My steadfast gaze cannot slow down
your race to grow and live out your song.

But the spirits of sleep are winning the fight
you have waged since I laid you down.
Your quivering eyelids close at last, and
you are off on a trek to your secret town.

Are there lots of witches with shiny red apples they hold
in their hands, that have three ugly claws –
claws that will scratch you and give you a rash
for no other reason than “just because?”

But they don’t scare you, not one little bit!
They haven’t a clue that you could win.
You’d tie them up into one big, ugly pile,
twitch your nose and they’d never be seen again.

I look forward to the stories you will tell
of a place from where the waking world is exiled;
so I peer through the window and count the stars
awaiting the sunrise, and your rising, my child.

Capricious, precocious, dancing one,
no cradle will hold you for long.
My steadfast gaze cannot slow down
your race to grow and live out your song.

********************

I wish you all the wonderful excitement of enough. . . 

 

Advertisements