We are a Grandad.
In celebration of my son and his wife's wee event in far off Japan I am laying off politics today:
A New Life.
The Black bird’s rising song
Which only he can sing.
The gate screech call of Chaffinch,
Before he takes the wing.
The hidden Wren’s melodic wish
From ivy green redounds
The Robin’s challenge, clear and strong,
Around the garden bounds.
They all call one song,
Loud and clear,
“Its Spring!”,
New life, abounds.
The wee one is a girl, fine and healthy, Mum's doing well, as for Dad .... you know what sons are like ...
In celebration of my son and his wife's wee event in far off Japan I am laying off politics today:
A New Life.
The Black bird’s rising song
Which only he can sing.
The gate screech call of Chaffinch,
Before he takes the wing.
The hidden Wren’s melodic wish
From ivy green redounds
The Robin’s challenge, clear and strong,
Around the garden bounds.
They all call one song,
Loud and clear,
“Its Spring!”,
New life, abounds.
The wee one is a girl, fine and healthy, Mum's doing well, as for Dad .... you know what sons are like ...
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