Transcendental Sonnet #1157:
Now He Sleeps

for my son Stevie

My namesake son is asleep here now
In his great-grandmother's room he rests
He studied all night then took some tests
Kept at it through the morning somehow
Came by bus here to sanctuary
Crashed at last exhausted utterly

I remember nineteen years ago
When this six-foot-five-inch man was new
While he slept I would go on tiptoe
Unnecessarily he slept through
Everything nor did he anything
Else for that first month when he first came

Now he sleeps: may this cold morning bring
Peace to this good man who shares my name



+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV Silke LLC

You love your children. You are a man of love and poetry. I like these sonnet things. I'm addicted. What a vice to have.

A nice vice!

We are nice guys. We are not mere straw-men for impotent critics. We mean well, we work hard, and we love.

Peace to you, my friend.