James: My Grandson # 1...... [yeah, My Kid Popped One Out; Humor? ; New Kid On Earth; Personal] - Poem by Bri Edwards
My only offspring just had her first child.
James is 3 months old; he’s not yet wild.
I hear he drinks a lot of “Mom’s” milk, AND …..
his baby ‘poopies’ are smooth as silk.
I heard he doesn’t cry much. I don’t know why.
On phone, some weeks ago, I first heard him cry.
He lives far, far away, in the “Quaker State”.
I won’t see him till this Autumn; I hope he can wait.
He’s got “Mom”, my dear Shannon, and “Daddy”, Andy,
and one grandpa and two grandmas handy.
I spoke once, briefly, to him on my phone,
but he talked back as much as does a stone.
I’ve yet to see a photo, but I can wait.
No matter how he “looks”, I won’t, him, hate.
I might have traveled to visit by now, if I were wealthy.
More important, by far, is that he is healthy.
I’d send this poem East for James to read,
but he’d probably rather sleep …..and breastfeed.
My kid said “Come later this year, when he can interact.”
Is that her way of saying “Don’t bother us yet”, using tact?
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