Long on will and short on skill,

Rampant feet and voice so shrill.

    He’s a young man set apart

    Whose cheeky grin just wins my heart.

 

He’s tender sweet with skin of peach.

Such eyes as his!  Oh! Who needs speech?

    He throws his dinner on the floor,

     Then loudly shouts and asks for more.

 

He sees a new world to explore

And he’s off to any open door.

   Will of iron and outstretched hands.

    He’s got his own determined plans.

 

Cupboard doors and drawers that slide -

He pulls them open with such pride.

   Things to bang and things to throw.

    He’s my grandson.  Oh, I love him so.

 

Copyright on all my poems

 

 

 

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