Little grandson, not quite two,
Easter morn is here.
You’re bundled up to search for eggs,
wearing bunny ears.
Round the red azalea bushes,
glorious with bloom–
springtime’s generous beauty,
Nature’s generous beauty,
nature’s outdoor room–
I’ll watch as you discover “nests,”
squealing with surprise.
What is half so precious as
a baby’s laughing eyes?
Easter Ideals Published 2015