Father and Daughter

Once more, he is late. He wearily trudges along

To the welcoming warmth of home, from the radio a soft song

And on the sofa, a quiet form lay unmoving in sleep

Except for a slight twitch, from a dream somewhere deep

He picks her up, lays her on the bed and sings a lullaby

And from her soft, tiny face, so much like his, emanates a sigh

He hears her comforting breathing as she hugs him back

And for that moment, as her daddy, there is nothing that he lacks 

Mrinalini Mahesh of IX-F