Our Grandson at Two

I reminisce with tear in eye,

With only two short years gone by,

My daughter; husband; newborn boy,

My grandson here, and what a joy.

My grandson speaks few words like, “Ba”,

But beams, he screams, “Gra-ma”; “Gra-pa!”

And what that does to inner heart,

Completes life’s final puzzle part.

Now in red wagon; him in tow,

As walking to the park you go,

To place him in a yellow swing,

You love to see him smile and sing.

Or in the mall at a bookstore,

As he adventures you adore,

And you ignore the patron’s looks,

As he say’s “Gra-pa”; hands you books.

With Grandma close; your hearts just swell,

You spot a twirling carousel,

With vibrant music off you speed,

And he so proud upon his steed.

Now nighttime comes so Mom and Dad,

Pour o’er events the day you had,

With goodnight hugs and kisses blow,

To your grandson; you love him so!

Peter Lowell Paulson

February 4, 2012