When Johnny's a boy no more.
No more will his tops and marbles
Be scattered around on the floor.
No more will I hunt for his cap and
No more for his skates and sled;
No more will I hear him run through
No more will I put him to bed.
No more will his books be scattered
No more will I mend his ball;
No more will his childish voice
Through dining room, kitchen and
O Johnny boy, come and sit on my
Some day you will sit there no more;
For some future-day will part you
Dear little boy I adore.
__Nettie Squire Sutton.
A Book of Poems
Nettie Squire Sutton
(Minneapolis, KS: Messenger Press. n.d.)