This after of a noon time
As if with balm derives
Only God and sleep...
A sleep so restful
So happy within
That one can only die
Or
One can fly free like a bird high
To catch the moist happy feel of those clouds...
Clouds autumnal, splendid bright like cotton pillows fluffy
To sleep on happy, too much happy...
And
One then finds Mother kind
A true Mother with Her kind eyes
Lulling her son to sleep
Tired was he...
Running, jumping, working overnight
With his dreams...
A mother so benign
That she sings a lullaby...
Helping her son to take a sleep
So that he could see light
And innocence more,
So that he could weave more dreams...
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