A sonnet

 I run my fingers through her soft, silky hair

She looks at me with those baby blues

Her eyes clouded with love so rare

Make me melt all the way to my shoes.

On my old creaking rocking chair

The flames dancing in the wood stove

Sitting with no worries or care

I suck the warmth in like a sponge.

She curls next to me, her head on my knee

I rest my hand on her head

No one but the both of us, you see

Like a picture in a book I once read.

I brush my fingers all through her soft white hair

And lose myself in the melodious purr.