Sleep my child on my knee,
for a time you will see,
That we are alone.
Your Daddy’s going to the war,
where the plundering cannons roar,
And the jaws of Hell await.
In the morning when you rise,
He will clutch you to his side,
And he’ll swear he will come home.
And as he marches down the street,
To the drum’s steady beat,
Promise me you’ll smile.
Every evening we will pray,
Just to keep our fears at bay,
or we know our hearts would break.
I do not wish to think he’d fall,
To duty’s mighty call,
But that’s not our choice to make.
Sleep my child on my knee,
From now on you will see,
That we are alone.
Your Daddy’s gone to the war,
Where the plundering cannons roar,
And the jaws of Death await.
Clara Lucea
Missed the last instalment of We Six? Find it here: https://theiristribune.co.uk/we-six-cherry-blossoms/
