Lullabies

These are lullabies I have written as poems. Midnight Lullaby by Michael R. Burch I. A measureless rhythm rules the night— few have heard it, but I have shared it, and its secret is mine. To put it into words is as to extract the sweetness from honey and must be done as gently as a butterfly cleans its wings. But when it is captured, it is gone again; its usefulness is only that it lulls to sleep. II. So sleep, my love, to the cadence of night, to the moans of the moonlit hills’ bass chorus of frogs, while the deep valleys fill with the nightjar’s shrill, cryptic trills. But I will not sleep this night, nor any; how can I—when my dreams are always of your perfect face ringed by soft whorls of fretted lace, framed by your perfect pillowcase? Final Lullaby by Michael R. Burch for my mother, Christine Ena Burch Sleep peacefully—for now your suffering’s over. Sleep peacefully—immune to all distress, like pebbles unaware of raging waves. Sleep peacefully—like fields of fragrant clover unmoved by any motion of the wind. Sleep peacefully—like clouds untouched by earthquakes. Sleep peacefully—like stars that never blink and have no thoughts at all, nor need to think. Sleep peacefully—in your eternal vault, immaculate, past perfect, without fault. Amen Originally published by Borderless Journal Sappho’s Lullaby by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy Hushed yet melodic, the hills and the valleys sleep unaware of the nightingale's call while the pale calla lilies lie listening, glistening ... this is their night, the first night of fall. Son, tonight, a woman awaits you; she is more vibrant, more lovely than spring. She'll meet you in moonlight, soft and warm, all alone ... then you'll know why the nightingale sings. Just yesterday the stars were afire; then how desire flashed through my veins! But now I am older; night has come, I’m alone ... for you I will sing as the nightingale sings. Lullaby by Michael R. Burch for Jeremy Cherubic laugh; sly, impish grin; Angelic face; wild chimp within. It does not matter; sleep awhile As soft mirth tickles forth a smile. Gray moths will hum a lullaby Of feathery wings, then you and I Will wake together, by and by. * Life’s not long; those days are best Spent snuggled to a loving breast. The earth will wait; a sun-filled sky Will bronze lean muscle, by and by. Soon you will sing, and I will sigh, But sleep here, now, for you and I Know nothing but this lullaby. Keywords/Tags: lullaby, lullabies