It is night time, and the day is gone,
and I am here to lull you to your rest,
a tired mother doing her very best,
with poetry and song.

You're too young to remember this,
the voice will fade, the tune will dim,
and yet you put me to the test,
to see what love can bring.

The music will not stay with you,
the pattern of it fading to a blur,
but Music will still be your friend,
a refuge from the hurt of loving "her".

And you will not know the words I weave,
only language, like a long forgotten hymn,
will stay with you and let you breathe
your own words from the mystery within.

Sleep now, and let your thoughts today,
shape your dreams,
and give you skills to play,
harder games tomorrow.


© 1992 Gavin Miller. All rights reserved.