What lies beneath yon glance, my lad,
'Tis something good, or something bad?
Or can I in my adult mind,
Fathom at all the depths behind?
I know you, boy, my own grandchild,
Your heart is gold, your temper mild.
Ofttimes a boy, sometimes a man,
You've changed my life, I am your fan.
You've been my strength in stormy seas,
I've backed you when you needed me.
Full House, it seems, beats two of a kind,
So off you go on your own this time.
Child, keep the secrets in your stare,
But know your Grandma's always there.
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Author Notes
Until a few months ago, I had custody of my grandson for an extended period of time. His life and mine were interwoven as often happens when you foster a child, related or otherwise.
He has returned now to his parents, but the impact he made on my life will last forever. I only pray the converse is true.
The photo is of my grandson, Paul, just about a month before he left us. He was wearing his cowboy hat he had gotten to look like Papa.
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