This is dedicated to all my children...
It seems but yesterday that I held you in my arms,
cupping your tiny hands in mine, tracing the lines
in your skin, looking deeply into your eyes, to see if
perchance I might find even the tiniest resemblance
of me in you.
It seems but yesterday that I took care of you; now,
you care for me, helping me walk and steadying my
hands in simple things. You come near and lean in
close to hear my requests. Tenderly you hold
my hand in yours.
It seems but yesterday that I guarded over
you, trying to shield you from harm. I sought every
opportunity to teach you right from wrong. That was
yesterday… when you were young and I was younger;
as you have grown older I have grown old.
© Loyd C. Taylor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem