It seems there are days when a baby decides
To leaven our lives with some tears.
Crying with vigor and patience to spare,
Eventually stirring up fears.
Is he unwell? Has he gotten the bug?
Is there something that we haven't done?
Or is he just grouchy for reasons unknown?
Either way it isn't much fun.
So sleep little baby, I thee do entreat,
For the sake of your mother and me.
And sleep little babe, for the sake of yourself,
Lest your face freeze looking angry.
2 comments:
Such a cute poem! Is he being a naughty boy at the moment then?
Yes, I had a cranky day. But don't we all?
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