Little babes held in arms helplessly dependent
Growing day by day…becoming independent
Learning how to communicate and make their way
Leaving Mom and Dad…moving a distance away
Whether far from home or moving just down the street
An ounce of relief is joined by a feeling of being incomplete…
Grown children are missed…even though it doesn’t show
A ringing phone brings hopes of hearing them say hello
6/22/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice read Theresa! Oh, the phone is ringing, has to be one of my, grown children! *10*! ! Best wishes, Friend Thad