I gaze at the picture an I see;
that he was her darling boy.
At first it seemed very sad to me;
but then I see signs of joy.
She watched him walk to school the first day;
oh he was her pride and joy.
Came home crying, “The others won’t play.”
She wept for her darling boy.
While most looked past his value or worth;
still she’d seen it from the start.
For right from the moment of his birth;
he’d taken over her heart.
Others were born and each had their place;
but he was her darling boy.
There in the picture; see on her face
just how he brought her such joy.
He only let Mama down one time;
when he died at sixty-two.
She still sets his place at dinnertime;
some habits you can’t undo.
She’ll gaze at his picture and you’ll see;
she miss’ her darling boy.
Wishing that with him she could yet be;
he still is her pride and joy.
c.d.m.10/29/13
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem