When my son was young,

And he crawled into bed,

He always took time

For prayers to be said.

He’d rub his sweet eyes

And point to a book,

While he begged me to take

Just a quick look.

 

He’d sit close to me                               

And giggle and sigh                      

When I’d act out the part

Of mean Captain Bligh.

He nestled his head

Right under my chin

As we traveled the world

“Of what might have been.”

 

He’d fall asleep

And I’d turn out the light,

And watch him smile

Through a peaceful night.

I’d give all that I have

Just to relive those days,

When he’d cause me to laugh

At his little boy’s ways.

YU/stan/kema.