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To My Grown-Up Son

To My Grown-Up Son


My hands were busy through the day


I didn't have much time to play.


The little games you asked me to,


I didn't have much time for you.


I'd wash your clothes, I'd sew and cook


but when you'd bring your picture book


and ask me please to share your fun


I'd say, "A little later, son."


I'd tuck you in all safe at night


and hear your prayers, turn out the light


then tiptoe softly to the door,


I wish I'd stayed a minute more.


For life is short, the years rush past,


a little boy grows up so fast.


No longer is he at my side


his precious secrets to confide.


The picture books are put away,


there aren't any games to play.


No goodnight kiss, no prayers to hear


that all belongs to yesteryear.


My hands once busy now lie still


the days are long and hard to fill.


I wish I might go back and do


the little things you asked me to!



Author Unknown

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