TO MY GROWN UP SON
My hands were busy through the day
I didn't have much time to play
The little games you'd ask me to
I didn't have much time for you
I'd wash your clothes, I'd sew, I'd cook
But when you'd bring your picture book
And asked 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 are no longer games to play
No good-night kisses, 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.