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Poetry Pleases: Joy

Ken Sylvestre sums up life and its delights in nine verses.

It’s early morn
A cry of joy
A child is born
A boy, a boy.

A little boy now
Starts to crawl
Our precious things
Move up the wall.

The baby grows
A lithe small boy
And with muscles shows
To fight’s a joy.

A young man now
With future bright
And with girl in tow
Oh yes he might.

The big day blooms
The bride’s all coy
A dashing groom
A time of joy.

The family man
Two girls a boy
Four bed detached
Wife, car, oh joy.

The kids now gone
They’re all alone
Life’s empty now
Sometimes they phone.

Full circle then
And news of joy
Granddaughter sweet
Has had a boy.

It’s early morn
A cry of joy
Another child
Another boy


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