My little girl asleep, wrapped up in sun;
A life, half-stirring, buried under sighs;
A thousand lives, unlived, inside of one.
A bronx cheer from your lips (the sound of fun;
A faux pas soon far buried under lies).
My little girl asleep, wrapped up in sun.
Five months you’ve been alive (life just begun,
And yet, a sober wisdom in your eyes?);
A thousand lives, unlived, inside of one.
My life becoming yours (not quite half-done);
A wrinkle ticks away each time you rise.
My little girl asleep, wrapped up in sun.
You sleep to meet the world (a life begun
As one whose burial precedes his rise) —
A thousand lives, unlived, inside of one.
Ten-thousand wars to fight, and only one
Has thus commenced (the Band-Aids on your thighs!).
My little girl asleep, wrapped up in sun;
A thousand lives, unlived, inside of one.
More stuff you could read, if you felt like it:
Hey Guys, I’m a Young Person and I Have Opinions (Rachel Held Evans, Millennials, Etc.)
Educated White Guy Problems, to the Tune of a Pounding Keyboard
The Western Branch of American Reform Presbylutheranism 
Very sweet, sir. I love villanelles – they are hard to make sound really good, but you did excellent work.
The villanelle is pretty much my all-time favorite form. It looks so simple, but it takes a lifetime to perfect.
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