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.
wash your clothes, I'd sew and cook,
But when you'd bring your story book
and ask me please to read to you,
I'd say: "Not now, too much to do".
tuck you in all safe at night
and hear your prayers,
turn out the lights,
then tiptoe softly to the door,
I wish I'd stayed a minute more.
life is short, the years rush past,
and little children grow up so fast,
no longer are you at my side,
your precious secrets to confide.
picture book is put away;
there are no longer games to play
no good night kiss, no prayers to hear
that all belongs to yesteryear.
hands once busy are now still
the days are long and hard to fill;
I wish I could go back and do
the little things you asked me to.
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January 31, 2008