Babies

Babies...are but little people,
Not long from the womb.
Precious little bodies,
Laiden in perfume.

Tender, little portions,
Coming from above.
It isn't hard to cater,
To your ways of love.

Cooing like a little dove,
Cuddling up for nest.
Sniffling little noses,
Blankets softly pressed.

Food...it doth become thee,
To make thy tissues grow.
Soft lull-a-byes are sounding,
Gently...sweet and low.

Precious...darling baby,
Let angels be thy keep.
Night-birds guide the dawning,
While thy eye-lids sleep.


E.P. 1908 - 1989