Saturday, November 3, 2007

AN ODE TO MY ANGEL

Written by Grandma Marge 10/16/95
I served as a nanny granny for my Texas Granddaughter from the time she was one month old to the time she was eight. Those years were the happiest years of my life. But she was a typical two year old! LOL


Taking a walk with Dillon
Such a darling -- she's so sweet.
I'm such a lucky grandma--
DILLON! GET OUT OF THE STREET!!

Building sand castles together
Ours are the tallest in the land.
She is so creative --
DILLON! DON'T EAT THE SAND!!

Fixing lunch for her is easy.
Bread and peanut butter is our staple.
She has such lovely manners--
DILLON! GET OFF OF THAT TABLE!!

Bath time is fun with bubbles.
She always asks for more.
I turn my back for one moment.--
HOW DID THAT WATER GET ON THE FLOOR?

Isn't she so precious?
Aren't we glad the bath is done?
She's so smart -- she can dress herself --
DILLON! LEAVE YOUR DIAPER ON!!

See that naked baby
Running down the street?
If I ever catch her.
SHE'S GONNA GET BEAT!! (figuratively speaking, of course)

Ahhh -- nap time for my Dillon
My favorite time to keep---
I've already read a hundred books.
DILLON! WILL YOU PLEASE GO TO SLEEP!!

I love that little angel.
Sleeping there so fine.
For a moment she is quiet--
NOW I CAN GET ON LINE!
~~~~

(C) by Margaret C. Arvanitis
Please give credit if you pass this on.

Love Offering.

If I had a dollor for every dandelion given to me by loving students
I couldn't be richer than I am now with my memories of those bouquets.


The child stands with shining eyes
Waiting for expectant praise.
His fingers form around his prize
That grow on sunny days.

"I picked it just for you," says he
And reaches out his pudgy hand.
This first flower he gives to me.
As if it were an orchid  grand.

I take the yellow bit of gold and say,
"Why Tommie, this is so fine!"
He honors me with his first bouquet
Made up of one yellow dandelion.
~~~~

(C) by Margaret C. Arvanitis
Please give credit if you pass this on.

THE DAY AFTER YESTERDAY

I love being around the little spirits in my classrooms.. one can get an insight
as to what they think and who they are just by listening to them.
I remember a little boy who was expecting a visit from his Grandpa and was
so excitied. This is the poem I wrote about his grandpa's visit.


My grandpa is coming from Dallas to visit us again.
It's been so long since he's been here--I can’t remember when.
But now I'm worried cause', you see, he sent an e-mail to say
He won't be flying in untill the day after yesterday.
I've waited for a year you know. I can't wait another minute
To see him and his suitcase. There's something for me in it.
He always brings me something nice when he comes to stay.
I want him to be here right now, not the day after yesterday!
I thought he'd be here yesterday. I waited up until --at last
I fell asleep and slept all night. Then yesterday was past.
I woke up crying to my dad, "I just don't understand.
Grandpa should be here by now. Texas isn't a far away land."
I stamped my foot and pouted too. "Why isn't grandpa here?
I hope the day after yesterday doesn't mean another year!"
Then, from the guest room I heard him laugh and say,
"You know the day after yesterday has to be today."
I ran to him and hugged him hard forgetting about my sorrow.
I hope he doesn’t ever leave until the day after tomorrow!"
~~~~

(C) by Margaret C. Arvanitis
Please give credit if you pass this on.