I know what infinity means: it’s one hundred plus one. Voice of innocence serene her sense of self of life’s complexities. Should borrow from her,
Dreams big this budding leader, astral charts painted on her walls, thoughts always adventuring. Eight summers we’ve camped together grown our minds and spirit –
Years when children, perpetually in motion, required a referee – Mom’s energy replete so ephemeral now – time having vanished, weariness lingering, savouring memory blurs.
Child, delightful youth, my heart’s jewel, you are light-bearer, hope for the future – antics haphazard, laughter contagious, spreading joy, sparking imagination – I pray
All I need is a pair of pink boots, the audacity to wear my hair as if no one is looking, the nonchalance to wear
Laughter bright as yellow dresses, curiosity and endless play, mind and spirit constant delight – this is a one-year-old. (For my youngest granddaughter. I miss