Heeding youth


Beside my daughter's cot I dream
of all that there have been
of former days light and bright
which now cannot be seen,
Of amber moons at calming nights
with mother's voice so sweet
when she could make another tale
while soothing my little crib.

Beside my daughter's cot I dream
how a man I first had seen
his bristled face and eyes were keen
while warming my feeble skin.
I used to muse what a man he was
whose nose was quite the same
but the mirror showed that simple truth
my father was his name.

Beside my daughter's cot I dream
of friends I've ever made
whose faith that on my back I feel
did never let me fade.
And all this while I dream and think
a charming time I've met
the child's breath then says to me
it is not yet a very end.

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