End of Day

On the mantle,
the clock ticks away.
Reminds us
it’s the end of day.

Home is hushed,
as our children sleep.
We slip upstairs,
for one last peek.

Our son rests soundly
on his bed,
his pillow tucked
below his head.

Our daughter’s curled,
beneath her quilt.
We give thanks,
for the home we’ve built.

Our only babes
find dreams tonight.
Their active bodies
no longer fight…

To play and run,
and jump and skip.
Yet now succumb
to this nightly trip.