In My Little Boy’s Arms

~ Frank Solanki

My doctor told me that I wouldn’t

Make it through the night

My son told me that I shouldn’t

Give up without a fight

…

I said, “It is hopeless”, as I

Surrendered to my bed

I asked him to go outside and

Play with his friends instead

…

He didn’t want to go outside

He wanted to stay with me

He promised to keep me safe

As long as it could be

…

He shut the door, as it turned dark

Turned off all the lights

“Death couldn’t find you, Dad”, he said

“In the dark of the night”

…

He also shut the windows

Checked for monsters under the bed

If he ever found one

I’m sure he would slay them dead

…

He could tell I was worried

By the look upon my face

He began to tell me tales

Of God’s love and His grace

…

He talked and talked for hours

And finally fell asleep

Right next to me in my bed

Making my heart weep

…

The tiny fingers on his hand

Are now resting on my chest

I kiss him on his forehead

And wish him all the best

…

I feel so sorry for my little boy

I ain’t leaving behind much for him

I hope he finds his way around

My end is where he begins

…

May he grow up to be a fine man

And make his Daddy proud

There won’t be any star with my name

I’ll watch him from the clouds

…

The night has prepared itself

So quiet and serene

Death is ’round the corner

With her tambourine

…
Soon I’ll hear the sound of footsteps

And a grave knock on the door

In a moment, everything will change

Nothing will be like before

…

Though I do owe Death a favour

For all that she has done

Letting me have my last breath here

Away from all but one

…

And I couldn’t be grateful enough

To Death for keeping me warm

I’ll climb the stairs to heaven

While in my little boy’s arms

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Published by Frank Solanki

Making the world a better place one poem at a time.

103 thoughts on “In My Little Boy’s Arms”

  7. A very heart touching poem from a wonderful father…god bless you and your son too…let him be the reason for you to be happy

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  8. You seemed to capture the essence of the emotions of a father,who would be thinking the same, regarding his own mortality. Nicely done!

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  25. Dying in imagination does not prepare anyone for actual death. The poem sounds like a journey that was taken alone until finally a real companion , a heir stands beside you…..Looking back through his eyes…….THAT is redemption. Enjoyed the journey. Thanks for the post.

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  31. beautifully written. What an Irony today I read this poem and today only my grandmother dies in her son’s arms(my mama) while he was giving her a bath. She was 99. She went in the best possible way. “Though I do owe Death a favour/For all that she has done/Letting me have my last breath here/Away from all but one”… Exactly fits the scenario. She had lived a full life. No regrets now that she’s gone….

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