To Taylor, Age
Three
Taylor is
three--whoopity dee!
He’s grown
several inches; his foot, his shoe pinches;
He runs and he
plays the live-long days,
Not seeming to
tire, ’though oft you desire
A bit longer
nap this tot to entrap!
He’s acquired a
small brother,
(To the joy of
his mother;
For little boys
are quite dear,
Bringing
gladness and cheer;)
His funny
remarks give many grand larks!
When he gives
you a hug, you feel ever so smug;
Knowing never
before did parents adore
A
boy quite so cute--and that’s absolute!
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