"Where's Baba?"
Asked our little bubba,
"With God",
I replied, nice and loud,
"I want to see him, mumma",
"Take me to him mumma",
He persisted,
So, we walked to the balcony, unassisted,
I pointed to the brightest star,
"There's your Baba, living like a Czar",
Our Bubba chuckled, "That's funny",
He said, digging his little nose for gold and honey,
"What's he doing there?"
"Watching you intently and singing a little prayer",
"Take me to him mumma",
"I want to be with him mumma",
He persisted,
The silent tears I resisted,
Began to flow with a massive gush,
Until my mother caught hold of me and said "Hush!",
Your son hasn't forgotten you,
His heart is still stuck with you,
I don't know how to pacify him,
I certainly don't give in to his every whim,
He may grow up hating or loving me,
Doesn't matter, I'll always be his mother bee.
No comments:
Post a Comment