So Be, To Lull...

When she sleeps at night, no love is forsaken by the turn of her sighs
And the dreams which she dreams shall be of lavender and love,
As love stings the crave she has, to be anulled in dulia
That her life in good endearment, her future, she sees.

So be to lull... her fears.

The curtains shift in the cooling breezes,
Willing her a just knowledge that there are many who may need her,
Many who love her with trust and many who are satisfied by her smile
when it is seen through the intense sense of her clairvoyant yellow dream.

So be to lull... her foresight.

Radiantly, kindled aflame is the fire of her heart
And kind is the mind which does hide,
But in fear of being alone, the wind takes the passing of her recumbent nightmare
And lets rest of her, easy in her luxury and spoils.

So be to lull... her terrors.

In her splendour, just a single kiss each night which I will her
When we are apart, but I do not know of how apart
We would reason to belong?
And I do not reason this love, forever forlorn.

So be, to lull... her loneliness.

With and unto belonging, in her arms are the clouds,
In her breath is the pillow of breezes like the open, yet unharvested meadow,
Her mind sways in graceful sleep,
In her clairvoyant yellow dream.

So be to lull... her abilities.

Into dreams of petal showers and elegant fragrances,
From the rustle of leaves, through lavender to jasmine,
To the butter of the daisy so free,
An effervescent garden of eden.

So be to lull... her conscience.

We will not lull when we waken parallel without satisfaction,
And with accomplishment, endeavour and endearment not forsaken in least,
For kind is mind of the name of the girl who is rythmn and flow to her father's pain
And Kind is the mind which will hide in fear of being alone.

So be to lull... her bonds.

The neverending fable of abilities, to be trusted
Shall be the continuity of her life's dream,
Which never should will a spoil of recumbence,
To any abstract or relative reader.

So be to lull... her observance.

When the curtains open, day is alive!
Then so be it, the day which is seen to her eye,
In pleasance, will her gratitude and peace,
With a light kiss to her forehead, this, a fatherly need.

R G Sneddon 1994.

.:The Sun & the Lens:.