Give
us each day our apron,
Complete with
bib and strings...
The pockets
filled with memories,
Much love and
other things.
The apron to
protect our hearts,
The strings to
tightly bind...
To hold our
loved ones close to us,
Keep them
easy to find.
And if those
strings seem overworked,
Strained almost
to their breaking...
Let us repair
them promptly then,
With each new
stitch we're taking.
Until they're
strong as they once were,
Tied tightly at
our back...
The pockets
filled with wisdom learned,
The 'how to' we
once lacked.
And when it's
time to hang it up,
High on a rusty
nail...
The one who
finds our apron there,
Rejoices and
won't fail.
© 08/16/08
Loree (Mason) O'Neil
Midi
playing is: You Gave Me A
Mountain
