The Cradle
Let the cradle rock.
Let the baby dream.
He's not aware of the tick-tock
or the time that reigns supreme.
He still has visions of peacefulness
and wears that mysterious grin
that comes and goes while sleeping
from the memory of where he's been.
Too soon, he'll awaken and hear the clock
and his dreams will slowly fade.
He'll wonder where the peace has gone
and where's the serenade
that he heard in the place he used to be
that never went tick-tock?
If only he could stay in the cradle
and rock and rock and rock.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Added by Poetry Lover
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