My hands were busy

I spotted this poem on my friends fridge the other day, I have read it once before, but it was a very timely reminder for me about how quickly time goes by and how I need to cherish the fleeting moments I have with my precious children!

My Hands were Busy

My hands were busy through the day

I didn't have much time to play

The little games you asked me to,

I didn't have much time for you.

I'd wash your clothes,

I'd sew and cook,

But when you'd bring your picture book

And asked me please to share your fun,

I'd say, "A little later son."

I'd tuck you in all safe at night

And hear your prayers, turn out the light,

Then tiptoe softly to the door...

I wish I'd stayed a minute more.

For life is short, the years rush past.

A little boy grows up so fast.

No longer is he at your side,

His precious secrets to confide.

The picture books are put away,

There are no longer games to play.

No good-night kisses, no prayers to hear;

That all belongs to yesteryear.

My hands, once busy, now are still

The days are long and hard to fill.

I wish I could go back to do

The little things you asked me to.