For not so long ago you were mother's 'wee little man...'
...now she is small and you are tall...
Time has a way of satin-softly slipping by and by
From Saturday to Saturday how oft we say, ‘oh my’
At how swiftly a season spins Saturday’s into years
With laughter-chatter-labor-dinner-supper’s tick-tock spheres
I touch the number seventeen and string it through your name
And cannot quite begin to grasp how suddenly it came
For not so long ago you were mother’s ‘wee little man’
Now she is small and you are tall with tick-tock’s after-span
Nobody knows as birthdays come and go how many wait
Before the surging forward flow of tick-tock spheres abate
Then pray we do not waste the haste of love-and-living laud
For this one life we live is a like a gift from God to God
© Janet Martin
Happy 17th Birthday, Matt.
How can a young man keep his way pure? By keeping it according to Your word. Ps.119:9