Once a child swinging on the swings,

now I’m growing up sooner then it seems.

Memories on this day are flooding in my mind,

I’m thinking about a woman pure hearted and kind.

Pink dresses and climbing trees,

Barbie dolls and lovely things.

Sipping tea from tiny glasses,

sitting in the summer grasses.

Sun was shining on our legs,

with my mother,

those were the days.

Middle school was a time for growing,

my mother was all too knowing.

Driving from our home to school,

hoping one day I’d be cool,

and yet the girls with painted nails,

had beauty that would always fail

against the blushing of my mother,

with a smile that warmed the hearts of others.

The sun was beating down in rays,

with my mother,

those were the days.

Now I’m sitting in my room,

thinking about what we’ve been through,

and all those summers passed on by,

and now I know that time does fly,

and popular girls don’t matter anymore,

but I still leave a mess on my bedroom floor,

and my mother’s there to cheer me up,

when the goings hard and the getting’s tough,

and we laugh about the days we’ve had,

no other person makes me as glad.

As my sun that comes in beaming rays,

my mother, my sun,

these are the days