Foot Steps Poem by Harold R Hunt Sr
Foot Steps
FOOT STEPS
I climb the stairs at night.
To hide myself out of sight.
I go to lay down in bed.
To rest my little head.
As I lay there I do hear.
Footsteps that do come near.
I know I'm not taking a nap.
But I do hear those feet that tap.
I know it's not my toys.
For what a joy it was my mom.
May 6th 1997 by Harold Hunt.
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: foot
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4/25/2024 1:20:48 AM # 1.0.0.1119
