Tag Archives: grandchildren

Craft Time

I feel sort of guilty since I have not offered too many craft renderings compared to the number of poems I have written and put in this blog.  But today I am putting a picture of a birthday present I made for my twin grandchildren out in Denver, Colorado, who recently turned four (4) years old and who love the Disney ‘ladies.’  My wife actually makes the bags for me.

I have featured the twins individually and together in three blog entries – “Who Me?” on February 1, 2012, “Pinky Poo” on November 10, 2012 and “At the Park” on January 6, 2013.

Whereas I use to make the large, outdoor Corn Hole bag toss game boards, I now opt for making these smaller, indoor bag toss games, which I usually paint logos on but kept these plain.

Thanks to all of you who drop by…..

 

100_6374

Advertisements

2 Comments

Filed under bag toss game, crafts, grandchildren

Pinky Poo

I’m sorry about the length of this poem but thinking of the grandchildren is always a consuming task. We live a distance from the two grandchildren out west in Colorado and therefore, being that they are only three years old, the task at hand, for both of us….grandma and me and them….is a nurturing, confidence-gaining…..and on-going process of….love.  Hence……Pinky Poo.  Thanks for dropping by.

Pinky Poo

 

She hides when she hears me coming down
the noisy staircase with its squeaky sound,
and I hear her giggle from her hiding place
and I pretend to look…. with puzzled face.
Where is my granddaughter, Zoe ella?
I bet she’s dressed like Cinderella.
Or maybe Snow White in a dress that’s blue
Come on, Zoe….now where are you?

In her toy room, in a dress of pink
she hides beside her kitchen sink
and jumps up screaming…. in high voice pitch
when I enter the room and hit the switch
that makes the darkness turn to…. day
and she freezes up when I’m ready to play
and heads for the living room and jumps on the couch
and I go to the comfort chair and pretend to slouch

With head in hands I feign a cry
as she hurries over and asks me why
as she tugs at my hands to see my face
and I ask for a hug but I get no grace.
She’s happy-go-lucky and running on high
in a teasing mood not poised to cry
and I ask her the girl’s name on her dress
and she probably knows, but won’t confess

and acting goofy she hollers ‘poo’
and I say ‘you’re funny’ and she moves close to
hugging me but refrains….pulling back….
and nothing’s changed….in her attack
still unsure of grandpa’s ways
wanting to, but still she strays
from getting close up on the chair
and at a distance….she shakes her hair

and I holler at her…’Pinky Poo’
and she looks up sternly wondering who
I’m talking with….saying ‘that’s not me’
and I hide my face so she can’t see
and again I ‘cry’…”where’s my Pinky Poo?”
and she brings a stuffed friend, soft and blue
and climbs so quietly upon my lap
and whispers softly against my cap

‘grandpa….grandpa….it’s okay
I pretend to whimper in child’s play
‘this is Toby and he likes you, too’
and ‘neath my hands I steal a view
of her pretty eyes in a moment true
before tickling her saying “Pinky Poo”
and she jumps off running in screaming joy
and back to her room for another toy.

We live quite far and she’s only three
but her trust is growing….in who I be
and time will turn these moments….true
and make them memories….like ‘Pinky Poo.’

copyright 2012  t.j. gargano

Leave a comment

Filed under grandchildren

From The Day You Were Born

My only grandson will turn 10 years old in April and I wrote this for him when he was three years old.

From The Day You Were Born

The war started,Austin, 333 days
from the day you were born.
And I’ve watched you grow in many ways
from the day you were born.
And though the country’s now in a fight,
protecting freedoms is good and right,
and I pray all your life is bright,
from the day you were born.

Your Mom and Dad will always love you dear
from the day you were born.
And they’ll make things right and make things clear
from the day you were born.
And when problems do arise,
and tears drop from your eyes,
they’ll comfort all your cries
from the day you were born.

And remember their love through good and bad
from the day you were born.
And never forget even when you’re mad
from the day you were born.
For they’ll love you through life’s strain
during its sunny days and  days of rain,
and their love will be clear without blame
from the day you were born.

And when you’ve gotten older, the more you’ll understand
from the day you were born.
And much you’ll figure out, as you become a man
from the day you were born.
And when you’re old and gray
to your grandchildren’s questions, you’ll say
‘I remember many a wonderful day
from the day I was born.’

copyright © 2012 T.J. Gargano

3 Comments

Filed under Family, Life, Love