Sep 23, 2006

A poem from a Mom to her Boys

I found this poem online yesterday while doing some research on homeschooling and I loved it. It actually brought me to tears when I read it the first time and I have read it over and over again.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Do you have all boys? If so, let me know how it touched your heart. Even if you don't have all boys I think you will enjoy it.

To My Boys
by Lynn Wilson

I look around this house of mine
and know that I've been blessed.
G.I. Joes and Tonka trucks,
it's messy at its best!

While sweeping up the cookie crumbs
sometimes I'm overcome
with feelings there's too much to do.
The work is never done!

Dusty shelves and dirty floors
and heaps of dirty clothes.
This house is very lived in,
so this is how it goes!

One boy is doing homework now
and one asks for a drink.
With this sink of dirty dishes,
there are no clean cups, I think!

I step around the high chair.
The room seems small, of late.
I pull a little sippy-cup
from underneath a plate.

Washed and dried and filled with juice
I hand it to my tot.
He beams a loving smile up.
To him, that meant a lot!

I dive into this house of mine
and in two hours' time,
the house is neat, the floors are clean,
and up the stairs I climb.

Intentions, well, they're always good,
(our bedtime story is near),
but three little boys, while waiting on me,
fell fast asleep, I fear.

I look into each sleeping face,
lips formed into a pout.
I take a little hand in mine.
What do they dream about?

I hope they're dreams of playing,
and laughter and good cheer,
and strong to last as memories
to quell some future fear.

For there's a lot that waits for them
outside their childhood's door.
When they are men and moved away,
and mommy's boys no more.

A tear rolls quietly down my face.
Life plays a game with me.
Time ebbs away without a sound,
and babes grow up, you see!

So while the sun has not quite set
on childhood's time for mine.
I'll try to make, each day, a point
to give them of my time.

The floors can wait, as can the dust,
I tell myself tonight.
My littlest one now in my arms,
I hold him very tight.

I kiss his face, he feels so warm,
this child whose life I bore.
I know I'll love him just like now
when he's a babe no more.

This poem may be freely used on family-friendly websites as long as the following statement/copyright remains intact:
© 2004 Lynn Wilson for Home Teaching.

1 comment:

Petite Mom Blogger said...

That's such a sweet sweet poem. Thanks for sharing. It's how I feel...