A young couple, truly in love, holding a baby so new,
No even a week old, this tiny, precious gift
Held in the arms of his father and you knew
By looking all the love and pride he felt.
Three of them together lost in a world of their own,
Many smiles and nods as other people passed them by,
They grasped that special moment, by very few known,
Seeing love grow from two to three, some gave a sigh.
One man stopped and gazed at that child so small,
All his children gone, no children left at home,
His eyes misted over and the joy he did recall
When each of his babies to him did come.
He longed to hold his own baby once again,
All newborn and helpless, watch them grow,
Then he suddenly remembered and hope came,
His youngest was having a baby, almost the same.
The baby came with blue eyes, a dimple on his cheek,
Tiny, as light as a feather, so perfect in every way,
A generation later new joy he now can seek,
So with another grandchild he can forever play.
M Ann Margetson © December 31, 1999
99POEMS/Three
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