Respite

I fear
Some dull edged blade
Has worked
a wound,
Scarred
a sound mind.

Now,
By some chance,
You have come.
And respite you shall have.
Because I,
Have such abundance
Of care.

Sleep well,
Dear child.
Sleep,
Until youth’s woes
Are borne aloft,
On scented dreams,
And hope for naught
But hope return.