You might want to read this to your children.
by Eileen Frost
Buckled snugly in the car, Kassie and Ryan travel far…
Autumn morning gently trundles… stalks of corn in standing bundles;
pumpkins at their feet.
Past the patch of ripened cotton, snow-white puffs the field are dottin’,
Turn the wheel, go ’round the bend, turn it back, go straight again…
right to Granna’s door.
Ryan loves to go to Granna’s, though she makes him mind his manners,
drink his milk and take a bath, clear his toys out of the path…
she gives to him her world.
Bright blue skies and swaying trees, branches touch October’s breeze
then they toss their fragile tresses, clothe the earth in crisp new dresses;
crinolines of gold.
Feeding chickens at the barn, Kizzie’s kittens wrapped in yarn.
Ryan’s favorite thing, of course is, helping Granna with the horses…
Pawpaw works nearby.
Little cowboy boots of gray go tromping through the tufts of hay.
Chubby hands are oh, so busy… patting Doc and loving Missy…
free and unafraid.
Dipped the feed and spread the blanket, fetched the water, horses drank it.
Working close by Granna’s side; cradled by her when they ride…
safe and close and warm.
Then lifted up by Pawpaw Jack, Ryan climbs on Missy’s back.
Granna gets him settled in, heaven shines right through his grin…
and fills him to his toes.
Missy’s standing calm and idle, Granna checks the reins and bridle.
Then she tugs out soft commands through leather strips held in her hands…
her heart is held in Ryan’s.
What a wide and wondrous world, sunbeams dance and brown leaves twirl;
Steady on the wooded trail, padded hoof beats never fail…
they’re strong and sure and true.
Leather saddle squeaks and breathes in perfect time ‘neath tiny knees.
All the peace and all the joy that could exist in one small boy…
are shining in his eyes.
Pawpaw’s waiting at the stable; ready, willing, strong and able.
Spinning Ryan through the air, laughter spilling everywhere…
it babbles through the trees.
God’s greatest gift to us is love; He pours it on us from above
and heaven’s heart is heard rejoicing, gleeful angels, praise are voicing…
o’er this precious time.
Does God really come to earth with every baby through its birth?
Reaching out with small, wee hands inviting us to work His plans
within this fresh, new soul?
All the wisdom Gran’s collected, youth thought gone, now resurrected…
gifts to Ryan, little child, heart and mind yet undefiled…
so eager to receive.
Gifts of love through God’s salvation, demonstrating adoration;
Love that’s strong and sage and mild; Granna’s gifts unto this child…
to cling to when he’s old.
In God’s image we’re created. By His grace we’re inundated.
Through love He gives, we’re sanctified; through love we give, He’s glorified…
Of all God’s gifts and His creations, love passed down through generations
(as the Father’s to the Son) I think might be His favorite one.
Gift of love; precious manna! Ryan’s gift from God is Granna…
he in turn is hers.
Eileen Frost, is a freelance muralist and creator of commissioned custom art and verse. She moved into photography and computerized image manipulation of same photos, to illustrate original verse.
She enjoys writing children’s books and epic tales in rhyme, which, instead of poetry, she refers to as ‘rhyming stories’.