my monster doesn't lurk or hide to spring out to attack you. no he sneaks up on you he doe's. he is very cunning is my monster. he arrives by capsule or pram. and i pick him up or he gets handed to me , doe's my monster. and when i have him, he lays in my giant old arms. he looks up and he see's me , his eyes go big and huge and then my monster grins. a huge big grin , yes he doe's. he is in his granddad's arms looking up,he smiles , with big eyes open. then my monster blows bubbles. he knows he is safe in these old arms and protected and loved. watched over by his grand mum and his nog who have both pass on now. as he falls sleep cuddled into my old hard arms. he smiles and he blows bubbles. he is my monster, my grandson.
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Posted: Jul 2021
About this poem:
alex my grad son is 4 months old he misses his grand mother who died on 30/4 too she loved him so much