_The Little People

Funny how the little people sneak into your life,

Under the umbrella of you and your wife.

Tiptoeing around, hiding in plain site

Often starting the day at dawn’s early light.

Energy abounding, enthusiastic beyond belief

Pots of gold, treasures galore surrounding their own little fief.

Sharing traits with the elves and pixies of folklore,

These little people bring way, way more.

No rainbow is needed to bring these wee ones out,

They are under foot and sharing their love with no doubt.

Sometimes they enter your life unannounced,

Often they are planned for and sought to no avail

Many a night they punctuate with their wail

It doesn’t matter how full is your life,

Nor does it matter if you are fraught with strife

These little people could care less what you earn

They are willing to sit on your lap just to learn.

They don’t care what accolades are accorded you,

They don’t care if your hair is grey or blue.

They are more concerned with the size of your lap

They could care less what car you drive or if you shop at the Gap.

The score you make on the fairway or bridge table means nothing to them,

They are only looking for when they will see you again.

The slowing of step and the gray in the hair

Are a very minor price for bringing these little people into your lair.

They will never make you lazy and may make you crazy,

They are the only people who may bring you a single daisy,

They crawl on your lap and whisper in your ear,

They welcome the fact that you call them dear.

It’s such a surprise to rediscover the joy of young laughter and tears

Particularly during your later years.

The memories of your children’s laughter and tears

Is renewed with astounding vigor in your declining years

By those little people you are blessed to find

Your own pot of gold, those grandchildren of mine.

                    
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