My child, go to sleep,
close your eyes and count the sheep.
I whisper good night,
then turn out the light,
and the safety of you I will keep.
Letyour dreams run wild and free,
beanything you want to be.
Haveno nightmares,
aviodthe evil stares,
andcome back home to me.
Iwatch you asleep in your bed,
assurgarplums dance in your head.
Theholdays come and go,
yourdreams dance to and fro,
likethe surgarplums that I have said.
Goodnight, my child,
mayyour dreams be ever so wild.
Don'tgrow up fast,
Iwant this to last,
sohave a good night, my child.
YOU ARE READING
Burnt Memories
PoetryA collection of poems written by myself. If some seem to be less descriptive or meaningful than others, it may be one I had written back in 2012. I might even pull out some from 2008, when I was seven and eight years old. So yes, that means I am...
