Grubby little fingers,
Dirty little face;
Racing through life at the speed of light,
There's no one could take his place.
Riding on a stick horse,
With a cowboy hat and a gun;
Accomplishing his mission in life,
To bring mischief, laughter and fun.
There's no one like a grandson,
To bring a grandparent joy;
Snips and snails and puppy dog tails,
All wrapped in a little boy.
A little bit of sunshine,
A blessing from the Lord;
He's got us right where he wants us,
He's the little man we adore.
Allison Chambers Coxsey
©1995 ~ All Rights Reserved
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Image ©Kathryn Andrews Fincher.
all rights reserved to artist
and used with permission.