Tiny Boy in July

Milk drunk eyes, blinking sinking,
my tiny tummy kisses
make him fairly flinch.
But so sleepy sinking softly,
the tickly touch of kisses
rouse a smile and a twitch.
Then the lull of sleep is tingling
and he drifts and drifting sinking,
like a floating, fairy feather,
and dreams like dreamy babies
of milk drinking in warm weather.