Sometimes I lay there as she sleeps, listening to her rhythmic breathing, smelling that scent I so adore, feeling her body warm against mine. My fingers trace her curls, the soft curves of her cheeks, her still and chubby fingers. The worries and pressures of each day slowly melt away. She babbles as she snoozes and I wonder what she dreams of, this child of mine. And then I close my eyes and drift to sleep beside her. The only thing more wonderful than holding her as she slumbers is holding her when she wakes up.
No comments:
Post a Comment