This journal wanders about. It's poetry, reflections, snippets from other stories and ideas of others, and my own pot luck thoughts reflecting the transparent thinking of this post-traumatically stressed, majorly depressed social phobic before and after my breakdown.

June 29, 2011

Alexander Samuel Kofi Bempah Aboagye - my third gorgeous grandchild

Before i start to tell you,
you must believe in pumpkin pie, rich and fine
all made by someone else, so secret but near the celebration of abundance
with balloons flying high;
not even a cry as you trusted and trusted and giggled in time.

The story is of Alex, babe and toddler now,
he came to the crawl with bumps on the head and strategies brewing
He circles the house, lets see what's here
He does the crawl and perfectly so, intent and
with purpose, exhibiting perfect form, of course;
consider his lineage!

Steady goes the course with a world to see and say
and as his siblings discovered long ago,
charm goes a long, long way,
It helps to pave the way!

Happy and even, interested and thoughtful,
he's Alex the man. Hey, Mr. Alex - we love you.
Hey darling baby, you are cute and calm and cuddly.
My third as blessed as the rest,
presenting yourself in his way, as he is:
beautiful.

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