It's 3 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
hand 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 his
tiny little hand,
will be
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.
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