By Don Ray Williams
May 29, 2006
As a little boy getting ready for bed
I remember looking at my mother and what I said.
Mother, tell me a story, would you tell me one please?
I would beg her and beg her and get down on my knees.
Tell me one about pirates on ships with huge sails,
Or tell me one about puppy dog tails.
Tell me about making snow angels in the snow,
Or about butterflies and where they go.
My mom could paint pictures that put my mind in flight,
And send me away dreaming into the night.
Those times I remember, I enjoyed them so,
Seems like just yesterday, where did the time go?
And now as I sit, with my son on my knee,
I can hear him say as he looks up at me.
Daddy, will you tell me a story, will you tell me one please?
I am asking you nice; I will get down on my knees.
So I tell him one about astronauts, flying out into space,
Or one about a clown with funny paint on his face.
I watch as his eyes flutter and gradually close,
Then off into dreamland he peacefully goes.
I wonder when he gets as old as me,
If he will remember, sitting on his daddy’s knee.
And asking if I would tell him a story, just one story – Please.
And tell me he was asking real nice and he would get down on his knees.