I sit Here where I often sit these days But as I look into the fire In the hearth I am far away; It is spring, and I am a child Bare-footed and dancing in the grass Swimming in the lake and Making mud pies Then it is summer; I am a mother Holding hands, wiping noses, Smoothing hurts And waving goodbye In through the window of a big yellow bus. Red turn the leaves And it is autumn My love and I alone again Pretending not to mind the Empty house - Learning to enjoy it (except for the long-distance phone bill) And now, as I gaze at the flames I realize the leaves have all fallen And lie buried under the snow Both cold and beautiful And part of my heart Aches to think of the seasons past Yet All seasons fade into the next And secretly, as I sit here, My heart is content And my ears are listening For the pitter-pattering of bare little feet Racing to my door.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Jul 2013 07:35:05 +0000