Whispering voices in the breeze,
Rustling leaves and weaving trees,
Hush, hush, we don’t want to wake
The softly slumbering rock-a-bye babe.
Tinkling glass chimes ripple the air,
Adding a lightness, a brightness
As soft as a prayer.
Let the little one sleep without a care.
©Denise G Allen, 21 September 2013 07:28