"BOYS"
When I come home from work in the evening
Tired as a fellow can be.
Eight little feet come running
Wanting to play with me.
And I see my wife in the doorway
The look on her face seems to say
Asking me there with her silence
If I would take time to play.
So I put my arms around them
Asking them one and all
And they all say in one voice
Daddie, let's play baseball.
The tiredness seems to leave
From the joy I get from the game
From playing there with my children
Of being a boy again.
written by Nelson Boyd
Great Uncle of Beverly Bond and Son of
Jacob Bloom Boyd