MANIC MONDAY
suggests
'SWING'
SWINGER!
A year ago when Max was one,
Just sitting on a swing was fun
And Auntie Bec would hold on tight
For he was such a little mite.
But now that Max is two years old.
He's getting brave he's getting bold.
He's shouting out 'More high!' More high!
He wants to swing up to the sky.
He'll swing alone quite soon, I'd say;
He's growing more mature each day.
And he'll grow taller, wiser, stronger.
Please Max! Stay small a little longer!
3 comments:
What a woofenderful poem... and the piktures go so good woof it.
This is a really enjoyable post. I love the photos and this great poem. A fabulous tribute to the young boy and his life.
A lovely poem for Max - capturing the past, present and future.
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