When my children are grown,
I will tell them
What it was like to hold them
When they were young.
The smell of their hair,
The fast beating of their little hearts,
The skinny arms, all soft flesh
And fragile bones.
I will tell them this
So they will know I remember,
That I think of it often,
Even though they are grown.
And now they are grown,
I can only hope for a brief
Scent of their hair
When we exchange a quick hug.
They are bigger than me now,
All muscle and firm bones.
Their hearts still beat, but I cannot
Feel them against my own chest.
But I will remember.
And I will tell them.
I want them to know
That I think of it often:
What it was like to hold them
When they were young.
Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
So VERY TRUE.
Feelings I have had but did not have words to say. Or taken the time to write.
Thank you 🙂
I’m glad it felt true. And I’m glad you read it.
I am quit sure TWO of my THREE adult Children have read this Poem. I’m sure at this point that they know this is how I feel .
And I will make sure the THIRD reads this soon.