My hands were busy through the day.
Didn’t have much time to play
The little games you asked me to.
Didn’t have much time for you.
I’d wash your clothes, I’d sew and cook.
But when you’d bring me your picture book
And ask me please to join in your fun,
I’d say, “a little later son.”
I’d tuck you in all safe at night.
Say a prayer then turn out the light.
Then I’d tiptoe softly to the door...
I only wish I’d stayed a minute more.
For life is short the years rush past.
And 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 aren’t any games to play.
No more good-night kiss, no prayers to hear.
Those all belong to yesteryear.
My hands once busy now lie still. The days are long and oh, so hard to fill. I only wish I could go back and do the little things you asked me to do.