The Bologna Blog

They are all Grown

They are all grown
No more bunnies, to tote along
No more tears, to wipe away
Cherished days, kidnapped by time
One mother's, sad evaporated view

Playgrounds now, hold no appeal
And a child's laughter, rings out dim
An empty bench, with remnant hare
Speaks sweet memories of childhood
A mother's blessing and heartfelt song
Many knees, scraped and bruised
With gentle kiss, to heal the wound
Echoed tides, of the passing eras
Reside upon the wooden pew
Such mighty tales the timbers tell
Of children raised, in joy and love
The bench remains as a keeper of time
Grandma will visit to rest in the sun
New memories to make with little ones
Worn weary bunny, they shall tote along
As their witness, to the age old psalm
The fleeting moments of family life
Are the greatest treasures found on earth
They are all grown

24 lines

© Copyright 2019 L.A. Grawitch (lgrawitch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.