A poem for granddaughter
April, she is a smart little tike
Only two years old and riding a bike.
Skating with her is no big deal, and she
says the blessing at the noon day meal.
Puts on her shoes and combs her hair,
talks and talks I do declare.
I can hardly wait to see her each week. She
runs into my arms and gets kissed on the cheek.
Grandpa and Grandma get the best love no doubt,
by the time we get home we are really wore out.
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