A lambkin is a
cute frisky thing
Bouncing in the joys of spring,
Without a care it frolics by
Tail flying in the wind.
With complete trust in his mother
To always graze nearby,
That when his little legs are tired
He will so safely lie.
Then, when his hungry stomach growls
What is that plaintive little bleat,
To bring his mother on the run
All his needs to meet.
And when the sun's warm rays are gone
Shall she lay beneath a tree,
While he tucks his little body close
So warm to always be.
As morning dawns, she feeds again
Then wisely leads him to the stream,
To show him how and where to drink
For the time when he is weaned.
If perchance a crafty fox may come
She will butt to stamp in attack,
Protecting comes so naturally
She can never turn her back.
For she is a mother after all
And that is what a mother's for,
To live each day to nurture
The baby that she bore.
Soft Whispers from
Derry's Heart Poems
© 2004 used with permission
A child outgrows your lap,
but never outgrows your heart.
Alternate "Tell A Friend About This Site"
Brought to you by
used with permission