Three for my grandchildren

These poems about three of my grandchildren were published in Verse-Virtual in December, 2018.

Bella

- for Bella McDonald

She kneels 

amongst the strawberries,

sunshine in her hair.

“I can do it Pa.”

Her little hand takes the plant

and parts the rich earth.

She snuggles in close.

Her arms encircle my neck.

I feel her eyes shine.

Ten thousand thousand

small, miraculous moments 

fill my heart with joy.

First published at Peacock Journal

Emmanuel.

- for Emmanuel Creighton.

I.

Emmanuel is Born.

Little Emmanuel, 

asleep in your cradle,

milennia ago a prophet 

wrote of a Prince of Peace

whose counsel was wonderful,

whose just reign would never cease,

whose wisdom and understanding 

was such that it seemed as if God 

dwelt in this frail and human world. 

The prophet named him Emmanuel,

“God with us.” 

What then would I have for you

who carry greatness in your name?

Not ease, for strength and power

comes through adversity overcome.

Nor great wealth, for true riches 

never lie in the deceptive glitter of things.

I would have you grow daily in mind

until in judgment you are wise and just

and in disposition gentle and kind.

Desire them, search for them,

for in them are the essence 

of your great name,

little Emmanuel. 

II.

Emmanuel at Five.

You leap and land

surely and lightly.

Your little arms thrust out.

“Body weight,” you say.

You take a ninja stance.

You swirl your plastic sword

in patterns above your head.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”

You are waging the war 

of good and evil.

Go forth, little warrior.

Fight the darkness.

There’s plenty around.

We need your light.

Shine it, live it, be it,

little Emmanuel.

.

Wake Up, Little Man.

- For Jett McDonald, 

when he was about 20 months.

Wake up, little man,

there’s exploring to be done.

That pile of dirt in the distance

is Everest’s foothill, the narrow gap 

between the post and gate

is where a crevice dangerously winds,

but here she comes to take you away,

saying it’s too dangerous to climb today.

Later there are prizes to be won

if you can open the door

and scurry off up the hill 

to wealth beyond measure,

your Nanna’s fridge filled 

with things sweet to eat.

But she’s here again, kissing, 

murmuring about sleep,

saying it’s late, it’s time for bed,

promising tomorrow to lock

the doors of the shed.

Now snuggle in, little man, 

she’s wrapping you up tight,

giving you Elly the Elephant 

for company in the night.

Your eyes get heavy.

Your breathing goes quiet.

She looks at you and murmurs

“He’s so cute when he’s sleeping,

really, really lovely,” 

but we think, little man, 

that for all of your dream time

you’re finding sweet treasures 

and high mountains to climb.

.