A Mother's Privilege T. Simon It's not a mother's duty,
but her privilege and her right
To be awakened by a brand new
voice in the middle of the night.
These golden moments of infancy
are special times you know.
We soon look back and wonder,
now just where did that time go?
At 3 a.m. you rock-a-bye and
gaze into the eyes of blue,
You wonder how it came to be,
she's part of him and part of you.
In these wee hours of the morn,
time can seem to creep so slow;
But if you study this newborn life,
she'll set your heart aglow.
These precious minutes of new
found love, as a mother they
belong to you; So count each one
as if it's gold as you rock-a-bye
your babe brand new.
Silken hair and rosebud lips,
you stroke her sleepy head,
Nothing can replace this time,
not money, nor words, nor bed.
As you both slip back
into peaceful slumber,
I'm sure you can agree,
That this is a magic time
for the sandman, you, and she.
So remember as you rock-a-bye
in the middle of the night;
Don't ever wish this time away,
it's your privilege and your right.
