Blown

 

 

They waited for the winters
To let the cradle freeze,
The baby was Swinging
Without knowing the creases.
One day with the snow came a storm
The cradle wasn't swinging.
The baby was frowned
It wanted to cry
But they were shivering to keep up their wry.
The baby was cozy
The cradle kept it warm
The next day the wind blew
And it cracked up the frickles of snow from it.
The wind blew gently
Making the cradle swing
The baby was delighted
And they all were blown with guilt.