I have lost my two babies – a boy and a girl.
And all that is left is a bootie and a curl.
Oh, the years seem like sixty instead of sixteen
Since I ruled their kingdom as nursery queen.
Dearest prince, and sweet princess, I long to retain
The vision of you in your childhood domain
Where a baby’s low coo, and a toddler’s soft kiss
Were loaned by the Master of heavenly bliss.
Though the princess stayed only from Spring until Fall
Yet there isn’t a soul who will ever know all
That she took of my heart when, without any fright,
She closed her blue eyes and slipped out in the night.
But the prince is a man now – that is, he’s almost
A man, and a fine one, I’m eager to boast.
I have done what I’m able since he was a lad
To help him distinguish the good from the bad.
Though I’m proud of these seventeen years in review,
Some times, like tonight, how I wish he were two.
How I yearn like a beggar on horseback to ride
On back through the years with them on my side,
Little dimple-kneed princess and apple-cheeked prince,
Much sweeter that anything I have known since.
—-F.W.R.
2/15/54