I was always 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 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
I’d hear your prayers,then turn out the light,
Then softly tiptoe 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
No precious secrets to confide.
The 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.
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.
All content on this site is the property of Oakley Lodge #668 F&AM, unless otherwise noted. ©2007