little boy when you rest
my soul in waves of joy
dance and quiver from my heart
that here within this feeling starts
like a kittens sprightly joy
sweet boy gentle dreams you dream
through hours you slumber beguile
not has there grown a lovelier flower
that nature blooms in glade or bower
as your face in sleep you smile
little heart you throb and beat
with emotions yet to burn
as life ahead of you attain
be free from sorrow and pain
as your pages of fate are turned
long i stand by you and gaze
upon your soft and rosy cheeks
lays a hue that gleams so fair
my eyes are dim with tears i stare
my heart you have turned weak
ian adams 1957-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem