To my son:

Softly I sing your lullaby
To quell all the tears that you cry.
I hold you close and smooth your hair
As we gently sway in our rocking chair.
Now sleep sound, tucked with arms around
And sweetly dream where troubles ne'er are found.
With your warm little body curled up against mine
While the stars up above us brightly do shine
I contemplate what life perchance you shall lead,
What blooms might flower from such a fragile seed.