How blest I am to watch you grow,

Each as precious as sapphires or gold,

You’re jewels so priceless that money can’t buy,

Near you I never feel old.

Four boys and four girls, from toddler to teen,

Blink an eye and you’ve grown so much more,

Soon you’ll have grown even taller than me,

Yet there’s always room for one more.

You’re my miracles, God sent from heaven,

Red balloons I send to the skies,

The oranges I drink in a dry desert place,

The yellow sun in blazing bright skies.

You’re green Christmas trees in the winter,

Blue ocean’s sparkle on autumn blue days,

Purple lilacs that herald the breezes each spring,

Rainbows of hope, forever, always.

Silent choirs sing each of your names to me,

While not here, we’re never apart,

No sound’s half so dear as your voice in my ear,

You’re my song, and my joy and my heart

As I loved your fathers before you,

With a love only parents have known,

I now thank each one and your Moms for the fun.

To be “Nana”’s a gift all my own.

If this poem sounds a little too mushy,

Too sentimental and embarrassing,

Just wait for your turn, as I did for mine,

And these words to YOUR grandkids you’ll sing.


Virginia Atkinson


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