No sound of joyous laughter,
No patter of tiny feet,
A room, that looks lost and lonely,
A house, that's now empty and neat.
Memories of our children,
The words they'd often say,
What am I having for dinner Mum?
Can I go out and play?
Cartoons on the t.v,
Clutter everywhere,
Towels on the bathroom floor,
Day trips to the fair.
Shouts of glee on Christmas Day,
Rolling in the snow,
Wanting everything they see!
Darting back and fro.
Those days held joyous memories,
A time that was the best,
Love your children dearly,
One day, they'll fly the nest.
Jayne Louise Davies
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderful poem and so well crafted. Childhood is so fleeting sadly.