Sonnet for Shylah

Shyla cocoonSonnet 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.

A Dose of Castor Oil”

A Dose of Castor Oil

A dose of castor oil was once the trick

our fathers often said we must imbibe.

Then gagging does embrace the mucous thick

as down it goes so foulness may not thrive.

A stuttering, red evil here is strewn

as AR Fifteens shatter all the love.

We need an antidote from heaven-hewn

yet no such medic issues from above.

Oh, world of endless joy and ruthless pain,

we’re crying out ; please send a cure for us

before dead children drive us all insane;

before this globe and hope is turned to dust.

Yet, comes no answer for our sickened sighs

or family of man. Cold blood defies.munch_edvard_3