I didn't write this. I did, however, print it and have it folded by my son's rocking recliner (forget the rocking chair!). When it's 4am and I've been up 3 times already, I read it. This time is so precious, and so fleeting.
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| David the 9th with his great-grandfather, David the 6th. |
My Baby Boy and Me
It's 3am, they're all asleep and no one's here to see
As we rock slowly back and forth, My Baby Boy and Me.
His little head is feather light tucked up against my chin
I hold his tiny hand in mine and stroke his baby skin.
The house about us creaks and groans the clock hands creep around
He snuggles closer to me still and makes his baby sounds.
I love these quiet hours so much and cherish every one
store memories up inside my heart for lonely nights to come.
All too soon he'll be grown up, his need for Mommy gone
but until then I still have time for kisses and for song.
Time for quiet hours like this with him cuddled in my arms
where I wish he'd always stay protected safe and warm.
And yet I know the day will come when his tiny little hand
will be much bigger than my own he'll grow to be a man.
But until then he's mine to love with no one here to see
as we rock slowly back and forth My Baby Boy and Me.
by Dusty Fulbright
