Watercolour Ponies

There are watercolour ponies On my refrigerator door And the shape of something I don't really recognize Brushed with careful little fingers And put proudly on display A reminder to us all Of how time flies Seems an endless mound of laundry And a stairway laced with toys Gives a blow by blow Reminder of the war That we fight for their well-being For their greater understanding To impart a holy reverance For the Lord But, baby, what will we do When it comes back to me an you? They look a little less Like little boys every day Oh, the pleasure of watching The children growing Is mixed with a bitter cup Of knowing the watercolour ponies Will one day ride away And the vision can get so narrow As you view through your tiny world And little victories can go by With no applause But in the greater evaluation As they fly from your nest of love May they mount up with wings As eagles for His cause But, baby, what will we do When it comes back to me an you? They look a little less Like little boys every day Oh, the pleasure of watching The children growing Is mixed with a bitter cup Of knowing the watercolour ponies Will one day one day ride away