Modern Romanticism

Sleep, my child

Upon this road covered in salt,

For you shall not be frozen

In your sleep.

You have form that contrasts the night,

Buried in white.

Like a leaf, dancing on the shoreline

Of some faraway beach,

Here I am witness to a singular emotion,

That of joy

To discover that you are at rest.

Do not thrash

When the wind tears through

Your wild bosom

To reach the limbs of your heart.

When droplets form at the edges of your eyes,

Know that you are glad,

Not ever sad,

For the world of my own

Has taken all despair from this home.