Violins play a sweet lullaby.  Cellos add in a lower strum and the lightest of trumpets could be heard.  She rocks gently in her chair, faintly off time with the music.  Such was part of her beauty as he stood in the doorway admiring his love.  Moonlight framed her out of the shadows at the early morning hour.  She hums softly the melody to the babe at her breast.  Her skin is pale and creamy in the light, softer than the spring rain.  Her lips softly whisper sweet love then settle into that tired smile of warmth she wears so often now.  Her hair is tousled slightly from sleep, but cascades down her back, sweetly kissing her neck and shoulders.  The beauty of her stuns him and he meekly praises God for his blessings.