The inner child we all have, needs comforting to sleep.
Come little child, O baby of mine
My inner child, spirit of mine
And off to bed we go betime.
For you your cuddly toys and such
And books and pen for me.
Your lullabies I must provide
For you depend on me
To make your world a safer place-
That is of course the greatest thing,
For then the outer cannot harm.
Our little piles of relics on the bedclothes
Will still be there to creep under tonight
To give us through the hours
A harvest rich of thoughts for sleep
To take with us when we
Must face the day together.
So to dreams my little one,
Sweet thoughts of night have we.
To nurture all our days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a lovely, reassuring write. Night is a friend to such music. Ten without hesitation. Warmest regards, Sandra