I have four precious children. They are all grown now. But they are still little children in my heart. They will always be. It is always that way with mama's.

This poem was posted on MckMama's blog today. It was written by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton. It certainly spoke to my heart and brought back all those memories of holding my four children, rocking them. Loving them.

I wanted to share it with all of you.


Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

After reading this poem, I was moved to tears. Happy, lovely tears of memories of sweet time spent with my babies, my children, in my arms. Time well spent.

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