Twinkle Toes.
A big, blue, bouncing, baby boy arrived late, on this earth,
and simply slept, ate and gurgled with laughter and mirth.
A happier, baby boy would have to be seen to be believed,
and to parents who do worry, they were definitely relieved.
As this youngster at ten months took first steps and began to walk
he was happier to balance on the toes of his feet, as he often did talk.
He ran around so speedily, and went into every cupboard and draw
and as if they were not enough, he would continue to look for more.
One evening when time for my bed, my son was lost, couldn't be found.
I searched high and low, and under each bed, into rooms, and all around.
Then one last check for the millionth time of every single corner and nook,
I found him asleep in a wardrobe corner, among shoes, no laces, nor book.
Another time when about aged four, I heard him at our outside door.
He'd been outside quietly playing with toy trucks and doing his thing
and as I heard a soft 'ooch' come from the mouth of his frowning face
the wet blood from flesh of one of his big toes did ooze at a fast pace.
My stomach rolled over, my knees wobbled and went suddenly weak
as my mind recovered and my mouth went dry, I could barely speak.
I asked my lovable little boy, 'Oh, how on earth did you ever do that? '
He pointed to a brick lying nearby in the yard, there is where he sat.
His sandals were lying away in the soft, red dust, his toys had wheels off
and scattered everywhere, his usual boys game. My young lad was tough.
What had happened to him who felt no pain, never a cold or even wheezy?
He looked up at me with the cutest, half grin on his face as he said, 'Easy'
Many years have flown by since then, now my 'Twinkle Toes' is a man.
He's had worries and heartaches that do come with life, and now a wife
and six strong sons, who 'take him back' to where he was in a past time
when a child without cares, he's now living his life, and does much gain.
Colleen Wright. T.G. © 5.08.2006.
A sweet poem about your son, and oozing with love. Nice, warm write, Colleen. Love, Fran xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ma colleen...you find a lot of pleasure in small things...you treasure these memories...and these are what make your poems so happy and touching...love...nalini