My Sweetheart

 

When the Angel came to whisper

of the love, they were to share.

They placed in the arms of a mother,

a boy with curly hair.

 

He grew to be their Sunshine,

They taught him how to play.

They stood-by-him in every task

His dark clouds, they rolled away.

 

Then, when our lover grew so deeply,

He asked me for my hand.

To me he's still an angel,

Tho he has grown to be a man.

 

He's the father of our children,

The greatest joy of our life.

He is a darling to his parents,

but a SWEETHEART to his wife.

 

by Iva Ridgway for husband Henry