A Poem by Seymour Brownstein
Pitter, patter, it doesn’t matter
Who disrtupts the quiet.
All we have is children’s chatter,
Quite a crunchy diet.
A Poem by Seymour Brownstein
Pitter, patter, it doesn’t matter
Who disrtupts the quiet.
All we have is children’s chatter,
Quite a crunchy diet.
A Poem by Seymour Brownstein
Little lady climbing all over me,
One would believe I’m a ramp,
Grand hugger would be more appropriate, maybe,
I love her the little scamp.
Reaching heights of delight I never could reach,
Her kiss on my cheek like morning dew wine,
all made possible with one little screech,
Little Pami, at four years old, mine.
A Poem by Seymour Brownstein
The romantic notion that in marriage at last
Romance will last and last and last,
Will last the least is true in fact,
Alas, alsas, alas.
A Poem by Seymour Brownstein
Pitter, patter, it doesn’t matter
Who disrtupts the quiet.
All we have is children’s chatter,
Quite a crunchy diet.
A Poem by Seymour Brownstein
Little lady climbing all over me,
One would believe I’m a ramp,
Grand hugger would be more appropriate, maybe,
I love her the little scamp.
Reaching heights of delight I never could reach,
Her kiss on my cheek like morning dew wine,
all made possible with one little screech,
Little Pami, at four years old, mine.