By Josie Whitehead
Long on will and short on skill –
Rampant feet, and voice so shrill,
He’s a young man set apart –
His 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
And then loudly shouts and asks for more.
He sees a new world to explore –
And he’s off to any open door.
With 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 –
But he’s my grandson. Oh, I love him so.
Copyright 2006