Baby-sitting

When your voice tires
And your arms ache
And he still refuses to sleep
Like the sun on the longest day
And wants you to keep rocking
The cradle to a certain rhythm
And keep on singing,
Raising a whimper
If you stop
You wish you could be some goddess
With many arms and heads
That you can sing a lullaby
Rock the cradle
Get some sleep
And still watch over him.