There’s recognition – it’s uncanny
He’s growing rounder, fleshing out
A chubby fellow – there’s no doubt.
He’s now outgrown his “newborn” clothes
And wriggles all his tiny toes
There’s more hair on his little head;
He takes an interest in what’s said.
His brain absorbs new smells and sights
And he settles better now at nights
His mother, proud of her creation,
Watches every innovation.
His learning curve is steep but sure
He lifts his head up to explore
My brother baths him every day
Splashing teaches him to play.
While Auntie, far across the Seas
Makes do with photos such as these
Time marches on; this little lad
Keeps on their toes his Mum and Dad!
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
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