The Baby In Her Crib
The baby in her crib singing sweetly,
Soft high-pitched tones ascending from her room,
Beget smiles to all in her family.
Her gift, prized more than a precious heirloom.
Unknowingly she blessed her family.
Each morning at dawn beautiful tones rang.
She played with her toys while singing carefree.
That is when insight to grandmother sprang.
There is noise without family prayer,
It abounds with boisterous boys around.
Adults auspiciously keep order there.
But, sometimes, peace of heart cannot be found.
Quiet walking seems to never take place.
In the morning outside beauty astounds.
When day’s rushing starts the race from Earth’s grace,
This baby shows the way, sharing love’s sound.
1/2/2017
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2017
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