The clutter fades (though three feet deep)
When I turn out the lights
And gently rock my son to sleep
And wish him sweet "Goodnights."
He tells me all about his day
in his sweet toddler prose
And though I understand most words
Some Heaven only knows.
But when his sleepy eyes droop down
And his head falls to my chest
I realize this rocking chair
Is the place I love the best.
No comments:
Post a Comment