My Baby Boy and Me

It's three A.M., they're all asleep,
And no one's here to see
As we rock slowly back and forth
My baby boy and me.

His little head is feather-light
Tucked up against my chin.
I hold his tiny hand in mine
And stroke his baby skin.

The house about us creaks and groans,
The clock hands creep around.
He snuggles closer to me still
And makes his baby sounds.

I love these quiet hours so much
And cherish every one.
Store memories up inside my heart
For lonely nights to come.

All too soon he'll be grown up,
His need for Mama gone.
But until then I still have time
For kisses and for song.

Time for quiet hours like this
With him cuddled in my arms,
Where I wish he'd always stay.
Protected, safe, and warm.

And yet I know the day will come
When this tiny little hand
Will be much bigger than my own.
He'll grow to be a man.

But until then he's mine to love,
With no one here to see
As we rock slowly back and forth,
My baby boy and me.
                       - Dusty Fulbright

This is a poem that I found a long time ago in a True Story magazine when my own son was just a baby if I remember right. (And my baby boy is now a teenager! *L*) But this poem still remains one of my favorites. *S*

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