Like a miniature cyclone
With some sounds so strange that surely
Their like was never known
While a Mother listens calmly
Even with a smiling face
You may know it's nothing serious
There are boys about our place.
When there's famine in the cupboard
And the milk pail soon runs dry
And we can't keep bread or cookies
No matter how we try
When we vainly seek for apples
That have gone and left no trace
Hard times is not the trouble-
There are boys about the place.
When there's sawdust on the carpet
And some shaving on the beds
When the rugs are tossed in corners
And some chairs stand on their heads.
While, if a tool we're needing, we
All around the house must race,
We can know they're making something
Those boys about the place.
When the house is full of sunshine
On the darkest kind of day,
And we have to smile at seeing
Some creative, boyish play,
And when eyes so bright and loving
Oft are raised to meet my face,
My heart pleads softly "O, God bless him
Bless those boys about the place."
-author unknown
Today we are celebrating our little Luke's 4th birthday. He adds so much to this family, I simply cannot imagine it without him. We love, adore, and cherish him so much. I can truly say I feel so thankful and privileged to be his mother.
Happy Birthday, Luke! We love you SOOOO much!~A
5 comments:
He's growing up so much!
Happy Birthday Luke! Aunt Marie loves you too!
Happy Birthday!
So cute. I love this poem, especially having the chairs overturned. The new game this week is piling all the cushions off of the couch and diving off the couch.
So many times I go to reach for a can opener and cheese grater that I just put on the counter to use and I can't find it.. I start to think I am crazy and remember to look in my boys' hands.. And there it usually is...
Thanks Amanda! I actually changed everything and then went looking at the link you found your background on, but nothing matched what header I had already made. I decided to make a new header on scrapblog and then found something to match. It took a long time, but it feels the most like me. I could spend hours and hours on scrapblog.
What a lovely poem. Happy Birthday Luke!
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