Children Poem

The blessing of a child is forever.

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This story got to me because I raise three boys by myself and them are and was always my little men. I used to think about the three Musketeers. They are grown and two of my sons have little...

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My Little Man

©

Published: February 2006

I came in from work; my little man met me at the door.
Keep in mind, I'm up there in age and he is only four.
This morning I sat and listened to him laugh in his sleep.
I'm so proud; my joy often makes me weep.
I'm thankful the Lord sent him to me.
He is the root of my family tree.
Cartoons and storybooks fill up our day.
"Come on, Mom, I want you to play."
There are days he seems to be in full throttle.
Wish I could get his energy from a bottle.
Don't get me wrong, there are times he can be a pain.
That's when I feel he's driving me insane.
He amazes me each and every day
With his actions and cute little things I hear him say.
He and I are a part of the Lord's divine plan.
Thank you, Lord, for blessing me with my little man.

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Has this poem touched you? Share your story!
  • by Cheryl Difronzo, Tenn
  • 7 years ago

This story got to me because I raise three boys by myself and them are and was always my little men. I used to think about the three Musketeers. They are grown and two of my sons have little men. They are and always will be my little men in my heart.

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