It seems like only moments ago,
She was on my knee ~
Or had her head upon my neck,
Singing tenderly.

When love had seemed so safe, so warm,
No thoughts, at all, dismayed.
But, I remember, in regret~
That was yesterday.

When her face was warm with fever,
No comfort could we find.
Then, she crawled upon my lap.
We sang a long, long, time.

I looked to see her fast asleep, but
"Sing more!" is what I heard.
The tender and the humorous,
She learned every word.

It wonít be long and sheíll be back,
Playing at my knee;
Tending potted plants and busy
With her young lifeís "busy bee".

Iíll not take for granted
Her presence through the day.
Iíll hold those precious things to add
To my yesterdays.

Joan Clifton Costner
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