Sonnet for Shylah
While Shylah rocks, cocooned within her sleep
what dreams are viewed inside her tiny head?
With all her world of warmth she snuggles, deep,
how near or far from heaven is her bed?
What are such flights for dreamy baby girl?
She wanders far in whirls of silken trees.
She floats ‘oer hills where wing`ed fairies swirl.
She’s flung, aloft, amid a lilac’s sneeze.
A whispered tease from nature tweaks her nose
as drifting now, meanders forth the breeze.
The lark will pause to serenade this rose.
On wings of praise, shared notes with nature freeze
in awe. They halt before their song begins:
it’s Shylah’s hushed, small breath they must attend.
