Poem, Scenic, Short story, Weekend

Fast asleep.

What dreams do you have there, my child, sleeping in the dark? I hear from you now and then a laughing joy as you drift deep in your sleep.

What world do you see before you, in those eyes so young and innocent? Does it fill you with as much wonder and joy as mine when I look at you?

What evil, what monsters chase you when you cry out in those dreams? Do you know that I am here, nearby, and ready to stand with you? For you are young and inexperienced, and my life is there for you, I hope those dreams altered when my voice comes booming through. That should a harmful thing appear that I would bear the wounds, and vanquish that which would scare you so you might sleep anew.

What joys do you see when your laugh comes through, when you limbs go flailing by? Is it play? Or do you dream of me and the warmth my arms will bring you?

Is it strange that I would ask you, child if I too am in your dreams? For you are in my dreams and thoughts most every moment of waking hours or deepest dream.

At times I lay and wonder, as I watch you fast asleep. Not moving a single muscle, lest it interrupt your dream.

What visions dance around in that wonderful mind of yours? What thoughts are you now having which may help you grow tomorrow?

For now you sleep here in my arms, my child, and this moment I will cherish. For one day you will be too old to fall asleep so in my arms.

But dream for now, my dearest child, in a world of your own making. And chase away the demons I may, I will hold you in your joys as well.

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