Poem

Two worn little shoes with
A hole in the toe
And why have I saved them?
Well…all mothers know.

 

There's nothing so sweet
As a baby's worn shoe
And patter of little steps
Following you.


The feet they once held have
Grown slender and strong;
Tonight they'll be tired after
Dancing so long.


I guided her feet when she
Wore such as these;
Dear God, may I ask, won't you
Guide them now, please?