She sits on the lawn at twilight
Shadows around her falling
Radiant smiles her face beamed bright
The nightingales were calling...

In her arms she held in sweet caress
A beautiful child of tender years
The dearest thing one could possess
Her hope, her joys, her fears...

Her only aim was to make
This boy a great and mighty man
For his poor dead father's sake
Who bravely died on foreign land...

These his last words softly spoken
"Do bring little Jack up right"
Reached the ears of one heart-broken
And burned into her soul that night...

So in the evening we find her
Teaching him to do the right
That honest policy is the best
In the race in life's hard fight...
Ralph Clark© July 16, 2009
All Rights Reserved

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Page created by Joan
7-17-2009

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