in the dark, dark sky

night sounds-
the owl's low hoot,
the rustle of lace curtains
shifting in a slight breeze,
the creek of the mattress
as she turns to face the window,
the moon's light spilling 
onto her face
soothing her like her mum's 
quiet hush.

She sucks on her finger,
drowsy and on the edge 
of a dream-filled meadow
where she'll rest
in a field of wild violets
as the moon hangs
round and full 
in the dark, dark sky.