Sleep
Sleep
softly,
precious child.
Tangled curls spread
across white pillow.
I reach to brush them back
and caress the cheek so soft.
So still and quiet in repose.
An angel sent to brighten my life.
This is when she touches my heart the most.
The patter of feet and squeak of bed springs
awakens me from my dream-filled sleep.
Rubbing sleepy eyes, we arise.
When I touch the tousled curls
a smile brightens the face
of my child, my life.
As lovely now
as it was
when she
slept.
by Francine Roberts
for nette onclaud's 'Touch Me count-Up and Down' contest
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