Winter’s cold embrace,

Has wrapped me in icy arms,

Yet failed to freeze.

Warm milk-breathed baby

With his cap of straight dark hair

Has captivated all.

Yawning, sneezing, crying

Not yet smiling

Indistinctly viewing his rapt admirers

With dark eyes, beginning to focus.

This, the longed for child,

Our family’s first new baby.

Wistful that we can’t be 

Always close,

And hope that someday 

We will be closer.

Gluing together a gingerbread house,

With sweets and icing,

Icing resembling the new fallen snow.

A gingerbread boy,

With dark raisin eyes,

One day will peer at us with recognition. 

We will build a snowman,

And he will make snow angels, 

In the snow drifts.

He will return spring, 

And warm summer into our lives.

Above is a first rough draft, my first expression of joy, sometimes poignant joy, at becoming a grandmother. This has occurred far later in life than I had hoped. The little one has healthy youthful parents who will teach him to swim and ski. I need not worry, only be glad that we shared a love of the outdoors with our children.

Unfortunately, I forget how to tag things. There is little I recall about WordPress, but perhaps I will learn anew. Or I will choose to compose elsewhere, without fear of formatting!

Happy New Year!

Gott Nytt År!

Feliz Ano Novo!

¡Feliz Año Nuevo!

Frohes Neues Jahr!

Bonne Année!