A grandchild is......

A pair of loving arms, a dear reminder of the baby charms

Of your own children, long, so long ago.

A grandchild is....

A pair of pleading eyes, a hand that leads you to the biscuit tin,

The disappointment when there's nothing in , for biscuits disappear

Like winters snow kissed by sun....

And Grans had better keep their aprons on.

A grandchild is....

Splashes of bright red sauce that spilled from pies,

Broken flower heads and toys strewn on the floor,

And yellow yolk stuck to a tablecloth,

And laughing faces peeping round the door.

A grandchild is....

an unexpected call to baby-sit whilst Mum and Dad go out,

You live your life again without a doubt...and love it all.

A grandchild is....

A pair of knittong needles dug from a drawer, and clicking once again,

Knitting tiny coats and baby bootees, whilst thoughts go winging back down memory lane.

A grandchild is....A present straight from god; you hear the angel Gabriel blow his horn,

For when those tiny fingers clasp your own, you are re-born;

Then you know that life is worth the tears,

The anxious moments and nagging fears;

Nothing more wonderful could ever be,

Than children's children clustered around your knee....

God's precious gifts, to Dad and me.

 Emu's grandaughter and great grand son