I remember mama down in the kitchen
Cooking those eggs
I Heard her pop ’em on the griddle
I can still smell the coffee brewing in the kettle
And daddy sittin’ in his easy chair
just over there
Reading the Sunday morning paper
Funnies were all over the floor
I don’t read them no more
I don’t read the funnies no more.
There’s so many times in my life
I want to go back
I want to shake daddy’s hand
And say you know I love you
I want to kiss momma’s cheek
and say thank you, from me
And I don’t know what I’m gonna do
I think I’ll just sit here with you
and read the Sunday funnies……
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Memories tracing back to the childhood are always a thing of beauty and joy! We cherish those gold olden days having fun with our family and friends. Though we know that we cannot go back yet wish for the same several times!
Hi Queeny... I mostly agree with you. As children we are so innocent - really unaware of the world. Then age comes, with the death of our parents and other loved ones... People move through our lives like ships passing in the night, as one very famous poet recorded.. And then comes that certain knowledge that we experience as adults- and which you described above.... The poem is really about an increased appreciation for parents after we become adults - and parents ourselves - but I have pure faith and hope to see them again in the afterlife - whatever your faith may describe that as....