Cradle

So gently as a sigh,
she slept in her cocoon;
tiny marbles of eyes,
it was a solemn seclusion;
she saw not lit but dim,
yet she wrote in joyful colors;
i am her clown by her crib,
cradling her in my arms forlorn;
littling raindrops fall,
she plays a sonnet with her fingers;
the avid clock dare not stall,
her childly jubilation lingers;
a day is less worth than this moment,
i could only surpass time;
my offspring will never live in torment,
she will always be called mine...