"I heard the bells on Christmas Day

their old, familiar carols play

And wild and sweet the words repeat

of peace on earth, goodwill to men"

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Ah, December, a sweet month of Winter~

A Baby's Birthday ~

Yes, he's our baby

Our youngest grandchild

Our fourth grandson

And our last grandchild

Or so we've been told ~

Sweet child, first birthday

This week? First haircut

Soon, too soon,

it'll be his birthday again ~

Ah, the days they go quickly

Into years before months

Soon this sweet child

Will be two digits as his cousins ~

But

he'll always be our baby

Great is the sun, and wide he goes

Through empty heaven with repose;

And in the blue and glowing days

More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull

To keep the shady parlour cool,

Yet he will find a chink or two

To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad

He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;

And through the broken edge of tiles

Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around

He bares to all the garden ground,

And sheds a warm and glittering look

Among the ivy’s inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,

Round the bright air with footing true,

To please the child, to paint the rose,

The gardener of the World, he goes.

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

little boys come with their dreams

their curious nature and love for dirt

they wrap our hearts with arms

that go from tiny to muscular

before we have time to say, wait!

while we are looking for the matching sock

they're daddies and then

they're pa's and poppa's and pawpaws

the circle of love and little boys

Welcome 2014~I love you already.