Oh give me patience when wee hands,
Tug at me with their small demands.
And give me gentle and smiling eyes,
Keep my lips from hasty replies.
And let not weariness, confusion, or noise,
Obscure my vision of life's fleeting joys.
So when, in years to come,
my house is still -
No bitter memories its rooms be filled.
Small Miracle
19 hours ago
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