|Ode to a Little Prince|
|Nelson Brown, Adam’s Grandpa|
|In loving memory of Adam Lincoln Chinn|
|Hey little guy,
I’m thinking of you,
And I’m thinking of your mommy, too;
How she sang to you,
And you were so fine –
You’re her first little munchkin,
And she was mine…
When skies are blue and flowers sway
In a gentle breeze on a summer’s day.
In a pasture green a butterfly meanders
And a little boy with a ruddy glow
Chases the butterflies to and fro,
Then runs to his mother’s warm embrace
Who smothers with kisses his tiny face;
Whirls as she hugs him and tosses him high
And laughs at the twinkle in his eye.
Is it only a dream? Well…if it be,
Then what’s the hope of eternity?
Oh, little prince, we cry for you still;
We laid you there at the top of the hill.
But we long for the day in some heavenly sphere
Again to see you and hold you near.
And your mother will sing you a song once more
And stroke your brow as she did before,
And laugh at the twinkle in your eye,
And never more have to say good-bye.