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Sleepy Baby

How I’d love to reminisce,  How beautiful it is, 

To have you fall asleep in my arms.  

To consolidate your day,  

To process your new synaptic way, 

To dream, recharge, rest, sleep and grow.

I would love to tell you how, 

Last week, next week and now, 

Your softly closing eyelids melt my heart, 

But the trouble is this;  

Even when I can steal a kiss, 

You feel the need to scream the house down first.

Why does it have to be, 

That when it’s just you and me, 

You kick, squirm and pinch yourself to sleep? 

That before you gently drift off, 

You have to scream your head off, 

And wake even the deeply-sleeping dog? 

When people say ‘what a cuite,’ 

I won’t point out that your lungs are better suited,

To field sports of some kind, or the military, 

In the years to come, 

When I think of you, before one,

I’d like to think of your sleeping angel-face, 

But the the truth of this year,

If I’m really sincere, 

Is more shouty, ranty and screamy then I had ever thought. 

Because every single time,

You commit this little crime, 

And have to scream and shout yourself to sleep. 

Even if you have been fed, 

And you’re clean and warm in your bed, 

And your day have been as fun as can be, 

It’s a strange habit of a baby, 

To punish those that serve you, maybe,

One day you will change this little method,

But for now, we will hold you while you cry, 

Rock you while you try, 

To put yourself, angrily, to sleep.  

We will try to ignore, 

That when you gently snore, 

That to get to snore, you have to shout a bit.  

And while you may have your reasons, 

With the changing of the seasons, 

I hope you change your way of catching zees,

We love everything about you,  

But to prevent us joining in too, 

Please, lovely little baby, learn another way. 

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