8

Eight

I waited, oh, so many years

For my first child to come.

My heart felt overcome with love

When eyes beheld my son.

I looked into his dark blue eyes

And fell so much in love.

I knew he was my blessed gift

From One who lives above.

I loved that babe and the boy who crawled,

The toddler he was, too.

He walked and talked and talked and talked,

And all the while he grew.

He's now so lean and muscular

But more than that he's kind.

His gentle soul is fragile, true,

That's how he was designed.

His heart is soft, his mind is quick

He brightens every day.

He loves his God too, ever more,

What more can I but pray?

The years they pass too quickly now,

I want to hold him here.

To stop for just a little while

Before we fill more years.

But that won't happen in this life

I need to seize the day

I'll treasure him and teach him that

He is the Potter's clay.

So now he's eight my sweet sweet boy

It simply can't be true.

But 'sure enough' he tells me now,

His year is starting new.

I'm very proud of who he is

The man he'll yet become.

There's no one I would rather have

To call my child than him.

Then...

And now...

This afternoon & evening...