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Combine these basic elements
Sun
Sand
Water
Wind
Sticks
Mix together with an open ended creativity
Season with laughter, praise, and discovery
Let the ingredients combine over years of repeated events
And place in to scrapbooks, memories, and photographs
Then serve to the world through choices that create a better world.
Grandsons
How does it happen?
Never expected
Never requested
You are just what I needed.
Getting Old
Reaching milestones
Looking Back
Reflecting
Retiring
Three births
Three boys
Three sets of smiles
New eyes
New world
Thinking of the future
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Laughter is the song of life
Our ears listen for the song
We tell stories with sound and movement
Our grandchildren enter with the sound of crying
Our age restrains some abilities
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The Grandparents Dilemma
I want to write this poem
This epic idea
This sense of love
This ode to caring
But, alas, I can’t remember
Thank goodness – you still know
The message is one of love.
Walking Across the Street
A hand wrapped around a finger
Trust
Love
Connection
Cheyenne Zoo
Go to the Zoo
Go to the Zoo Gramma
Go to the Zoo
Giraffes
See giraffes
Feed giraffes, Gramma
Go to the zoo?
Cold Rainy Day
March Day
Brown Day
Remember the sunny day
Grampa, you play with me
I want you to play with me
Inside
Thinking outside
Wet socks drying
Thomas the train
Can't chase away the rain
The Barefoot Boy
Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistles tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace:
From my heart I give thee joy—
I was once a barefoot boy!
O, for boyhood's painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day,
Health that mocks the doctor's rules,
Knowledge never learned of schools,
O, for boyhood's time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things I heard or saw
Me, their master, waited for.
I was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming-birds and honey bees;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond,
Mine the walnut slopes beyond,
Mine, on bending orchard trees,
Apples of Hesperides!
Cheerily, then, my little man,
Live and laugh, as boyhood can!
Though the flinty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,
Every more shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew;
Every evening from thy feet
Shall the cool wind kiss the heat:
All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison cells of pride,
Lose the freedom of the sod,
Like a colt's for work be shod,
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!