I'm only allowed to love you while you're sleeping.

(a letter, of sorts, to my daughter, who somedays seems to not be very fond of me)

If I were some peas on a plate
And next to me was some carrots
And we were offered to you to eat
You
With every bit of sternness and seriousness
Would state
Very imfatically no doubt,
'I'm afraid I do not like peas'
Or more precisely
'NOOOOOOO!!!!!'
And insist upon their (my) removal at once


I have merely to walk into a room
And no sooner have I entered
Is my presence made known to be unwelcome.

One minute you are all giggles and laughter
The next you are screaming and tears
And all I had to do was offer to hold you

When you wake up you cry out for your grammy
And if I so dare to be the one to get you up
'No" I am told
And 'get out" I'm sure you'd say if you knew the words

No matter who you are with or how much fun you are having
It is greatly preffered to anything or anytime spent with me

But little do you know
That while you lay
Sound asleep in your bed of dreams so sweet
Ever so quietly, ever so soft
I come and I attempt the impossible

I pick you up
I hold you in my arms
And you, unknowingly I am sure, gently lay your head on my shoulder
You breath easily
You are content
And I my dear, am in highest heaven

I hold you and I rock you and I sing to you
I kiss your forehead
I stroke your face
I run my fingers through your hair
And I imagine you, in all your stillness and serenity
To be perfectly and happily as in love with me as I am with you
And you, just as I, say to yourself
There is no other place I know
That I would ever rather be