Plahm announces his intention upfront: “this is a sleepy-bye lullaby. / Not an eye opener.” The meta-framing—instructions to read “under the covers, / soft as moonlight, / all comfy and snuggly”—creates a performative intimacy, positioning the poem itself as a gift being unwrapped. The extended gift metaphor (“wrapped with care, / bow adjusted just right”) leads to the revelation: “And inside— / what I gift. / It is sacred.” The central section deploys anaphoric “It is sacred” as a refrain, building a liturgy of appreciation. The beloved’s attributes become offerings: smile as light, eyes as beauty, breath as passion, life as gift to all, heart as “God’s gift to me.” The litany culminates in staccato declarations: “Sacred— / your life. / Sacred— / your heart. / Sacred— / your soul. / Sacred— / my part.” The closing question—”Are you— / here? / with me…?”—introduces gentle vulnerability, as though the speaker needs confirmation that this sacred presence hasn’t drifted into sleep. The final return to “Tuck in tight… / it’s sleepy-bye time” creates circularity, bookending the prayer with domestic tenderness.

A tender, devotional lullaby that succeeds through its deliberate pacing and liturgical structure. The meta-framing—explicitly instructing the reader how to receive the poem—could feel gimmicky but instead creates genuine warmth, as though the poet is tucking you in before delivering his gift. The anaphoric “It is sacred” refrain builds hypnotic power, transforming simple declarations into something approaching prayer. The enumeration of gifts (smile, eyes, breath, life, heart) escalates beautifully toward the theological claim: “Your heart—God’s gift to me.” The staccato “Sacred—” sequence in the closing stanzas achieves real incantatory force. The vulnerable question “Are you— / here? / with me…?” introduces just enough uncertainty to humanize the devotion—even in moments of profound gratitude, we seek reassurance of presence. Minor critique: the opening instructions, while charming, run slightly long before the poem proper begins. But as a bedside blessing—poem as ritual, poem as gift—it accomplishes exactly what it sets out to do.