"Bubbling up in our own good time-- online."
Groundwaters Publishing, LLC
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Volume 5 Issue 3
Page 24
Page 24
Look, Baby, those are leaves hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.
We left the dark room, and I, singing softly, dancing gently,
Showed her an egg,
A lamp that flickered off and on,
Soft velvet,
Piano keys,
My fingers.
We explored other rooms until her eyes, deep pools of wonder,
Saw my face.
Pleased to be so closely trusted,
I spoke of outside life and opened up the curtain.
Look, Baby. Those are leaves hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.
We left the sheltered house, and I, speaking softly, walking gently,
Showed her a stone,
A fence in sun and shadows
Smooth petals,
Crunching gravel,
Blades of grass..
We explored the garden until her eyes, deep pools of wonder,
Saw my face.
Embarrassed to be so closely trusted,
I spoke of others who would open up her world.
Look, Baby. Those are leaves hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.
We left the yard, and I, promising softly, holding gently,
Showed her sidewalk cracks,
An alley dark and deep,
Rough boys,
Noisy cars,
The town.
We explored the world until her eyes, deep pools of wonder,
Saw my face.
Frightened to be so closely trusted,
I spoke of love and joy and my heavy, hopeful heart.
Look, Baby. Those are leaves hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.
Look, Baby. Those are leaves hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.
We left the dark room, and I, singing softly, dancing gently,
Showed her an egg,
A lamp that flickered off and on,
Soft velvet,
Piano keys,
My fingers.
We explored other rooms until her eyes, deep pools of wonder,
Saw my face.
Pleased to be so closely trusted,
I spoke of outside life and opened up the curtain.
Look, Baby. Those are leaves hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.
We left the sheltered house, and I, speaking softly, walking gently,
Showed her a stone,
A fence in sun and shadows
Smooth petals,
Crunching gravel,
Blades of grass..
We explored the garden until her eyes, deep pools of wonder,
Saw my face.
Embarrassed to be so closely trusted,
I spoke of others who would open up her world.
Look, Baby. Those are leaves hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.
We left the yard, and I, promising softly, holding gently,
Showed her sidewalk cracks,
An alley dark and deep,
Rough boys,
Noisy cars,
The town.
We explored the world until her eyes, deep pools of wonder,
Saw my face.
Frightened to be so closely trusted,
I spoke of love and joy and my heavy, hopeful heart.
Look, Baby. Those are leaves hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.
Look, Baby. Those are leaves hanging from the trees, swaying in the breeze.
| Lullaby By Jane Capron |