Watching her baby sleeps

I am not qualified to peep into your mild dreams
Even to your lonely Mom's frustrated World.
She waits anxiously for your missing father's arrival
From the rage battlefield.
Your precious smile with Angels
And no wars there.
I think of my old cradle poor mom swung
And once I too dreamed the same Angels like you.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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