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I read this poem almost twelve years ago and since I found it recently amongst my papers I want to share it with you; it is so lovely and such a reminder that the time with our little ones is precious, but short lived. So enjoy every moment. In The Attic Just an old box, half-forgotten ‘Neath the attic’s cobwebbed eaves, As the dusty lid I lifted Memory swiftly turned the leaves. Little clothes, so faded, wrinkled, Once again your colours glow, How you bring them back before Little folks of long ago! You are like a magic carpet Swiftly bearing me away To the little house so precious Where my children used to play. Little heads of browns and auburn Bent so earnest o’er their play; Romping shouting, running, laughing, From the dawn till twilight gray. Little arms entwined around me, Little lips close to my face, How I long to hold my babies Close again in love’s embrace. Four bright faces in the lamplight Over studies, stories, games — O you bring so many pictures Framed in memory’s picture frames! They are “talkies,” too — I listen To their voices clear and sweet, And I plainly catch the music Of their happy, skipping feet. They are grown, my precious babies, But my sons and daughters dear Love me just the same, I’m certain, As they did in yesteryear. So I fold away the garments Tho’ I see through mists of tears; Life and love bring compensations Though they give not back the years. Boys grown tall, Girls grown to women Bravely doing each their part, O, I love them all so dearly! But I’m hungry in my heart Sometimes, For the baby faces As a mother only knows, For the little lads and lassies When I see the little clothes.
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Posted by star
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