This Bundle Of Joy That You Present Poem by Steve Ricketts

Just look and see what you've both done. The result of when two lives collide.Treasures born from this time, brings joy to all that gather round, this humble house, that loving home. This new life that brings such great joy, it matters not that sleeps deprived. For just one coo or just one smile, makes you feel so alive. Tired minds no rest for thee, nappies now and then that feed, wind to move, no time for play. But just look at all you have achieved.

A life so fresh and so new, a teacher now are you too, lessons learnt every night, another smile will make it right. Minutes here in quite content looking down at this heaven sent, this little bundle, this wondrous boy. Time will fly and he will grow, memory's made here, so don't let go, treasured times for all your life. For once you start to turn around, off he'll go with no time for you, it's mates his with, no more for you. Time will turn yet again, it's you that he doesn't really hate, word said when things not right, bite your tongue and hold him tight, then count to ten, it will be alright.

Out to work your young one goes, in his face all is shown. New ventures here for him to find. Worry not he'll do just fine, now he feels all grown for sure. Measures up against that door, how his bones have grown so much, shame his cloths won't do as much. In his mind he is the man, trying to say you don't understand. Wiser you should really be, than the fool he thinks you to be. Wait awhile with nothing said, watch his eyes, soon he'll see, not so silly any more. When was all that wisdom born?

Worries over, not by far. It's not yet time to close your eyes. See that girl who you despise. Close that mouth, your catching flies. Hold your tongue, please be wise. Give it time for then he'll see, she was never meant to be. A wiser man he has grown, but ask him that and he will moan, by himself, done on his own. How proud of this boy have you become. Settled down now at last and so it all begins again, waiting for that day to come, when history repeats. Then your works done.