Poetry by Jeff Green



by cricketjeff on February 6, 2009.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

In miniature perfection round my own
Four tiny fingers hold my soul in awe
In all the years when she is fully grown
No man will ever love this lady more

A tiny crinkled face that shines like fire
Has won my heart in ways I can’t believe
A love not born of amorous desire
And something only parents can conceive

A score or more of years have past since then
And still I feel her fingers hold my hand
A father is the luckiest of men
In ways no other man can understand

One day perhaps these feelings will repeat
And as a grandad life will seem complete

Author notes

Still subject to revision

In my (English) English accent more and awe are perfect rhymes, I am looking for a rhyming pair that will work for all readers.