Within the cradle, hushed and sweet,
Our little Bunarith we have come to greet.
With gentle, kitten coos he lies
To recieve his due of adoring smiles.
And we, in Grand Parental haste,
Make renewing memories of his sleeping face.
There his Father, there his Mom,
And where do those cherub cheeks come from?
And is his hair just a shade too light?
Not yet his dark haired sister's delight.
It matters not what we devise or scheme,
Our little Bunny will seize his dream.