Poem By Pam Warden
His sweet, young voice beckons me
I glance in his direction,
Dragging on the floor I see
The froggy game collection...
His favorite book is in my lap
He squirms on well padded knees,
Stalling for time before his nap
His soft voice gently prompts me...
Excitedly he rushes past
The other children playing,
His little legs are climbing fast
And as he slides he's saying...
He waves at me and says goodbye
With tears flowing in sorrow,
His mother tells him not to cry
You'll be with her tomorrow...