Quietly she sings a soothing lullaby
as she sits in her old rocking chair.
From the window, soft oblique rays of light
illuminate the sparsely furnished room.

On walls yellowed with age, a tattered moon
and stars that long since lost their lustre
look down upon the sleeping babe
she cradles in her arms.

She sings of princes and kings;
oceans of teal and valleys lush with green,
fantastic places she has never seen,
while she softly lays a kiss on her baby’s brow.

She has little to hope for and less to give
but as she holds her tiny bundle
she is rich beyond compare
and she makes the only promise that she can.

“My heart will always love you; 
my arms will always care.
I’ll do my best to nourish both your body and your mind,
and as you grow, my darling, I always will be there.”