Sunday, February 15, 2009
A Mother and her 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 your side, his precious secrets to confide.
The picture books are put away; there ore no longer games to play.
No good night kiss, no prayers to hear, that all belongs to yesteryear.
My hands, once busy, now are still, the days are long and hard to fill.
I wish I could go back and do the little things you asked me to.
Your hands were busy through the day; you didn't have the time to play.
You'd wash my clothes you'd sew and cook; I never knew the time it took.
My picture book I'd bring to you, you'd say there's just too much to do.
I'd ask you please to share my fun; you'd say a little later son.
You'd tuck me in to bed at night; I'd have a dream be scared with fright.
Then run to you climb in your bed, you'd hold me close and pat my head.
You never think when you are young; you’re much too busy having fun.
I never understood you see, those things you did were just for me.
Life is short the years run past; I never knew I'd grow up so fast.
No longer am I at your side, a little guy so full of pride.
The picture book now put away, there are no longer games to play.
No good night kisses or dreams of fear, that all belongs to yesteryear.
I'm grown up now with a family too, it's hard to find the time for you.
I hope you'll try to understand, when I'm not there to hold your hand.
The reasons not that I don't care; the time it seems is just not there.
Remember this when I'm away, I love you mom, more each day.