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Never Too Old

Just a little girl,
Fingers twined in mama’s curls,
Watching the seashells on the wall
Fade to black as the storm bellows its call.
I lie quite still,
And hope with all my will
That sleep does invite,
And I can hold my mama all through the night.

Just nine years old—
Off to the beach that yellow school bus rolls.
I wave and wave,
And all those kisses on my cheek I save.
And as I lie in bed
After all those ghost stories my teacher read,
I remember our goodbye,
And I cover my head and cry.
And hold my little bear
As if mama is lying there.

Just twelve years old—
Gazing out into the rosy mountain gold.
The chocolate’s too hot,
And our hands too cold,
But the secrets of the mountain yet unfold.
I am a wood elf, I whisper,
And I crawl down to kiss her
We giggle at the leaves
They dance in the murmurs of the breeze.
And we both agree
That all this was just meant to be.

Just fourteen years old—
Two movie tickets we hold.
By the time they dim the light,
She’s already holding me tight.
The film’s not sad,
And, for my sake, I’m glad.
I cannot help but roll my eyes,
Because in every movie she cries!
I know that she just wants me near.
And I huff aloud, but I still want her here.

Just seventeen years old—
And another of life’s pages I fold.
I may be too tall
For that dance-with-me doll,
Too cool
To swim in our neighborhood pool,
Too smart
To ride on the bottom of her shopping cart,
And too big
To sit in the dirt and dig.
I may be too old to play
But I’m never too tall, cool, smart, big, or old to say,
“Mama, I have loved you from the start,
And forever you will hold my heart.”



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