Let me tuck your tiny head

beneath God's cloud of love,

And sing a lullaby to you

of Angels . . . up above.

Let me kiss your baby cheek

and touch your curly hair . . .

For you are what I am living for

my darling, resting there.

And so goodnight my little one

it's time to close your eyes . . .

and drift into a land, your own

of childhood's sweet surprise.

(c) Priscilla Rose Wyatt