WESTLEY

Westley

He is only one year old and cute as can be, his name has the ring of Nobility.
He is a little tyke not yet ready to ride a trike or fly a kite.
Never call him Wes, you will see the frown on Mum’s face, and surely mothers know best!
He is a real charmer and in the Restaurant his infectious smile turns many heads along the isle, his little cute fedora adds to his angelic aura.

He loves to eat everything, even broccoli to him is no big thing, for his goldfish treats he begs, well fed is he, just check out those chubby legs.
With Shiloh the cat he lies down for a nap, a pretty remarkable sight to behold some habits stick around even when we grow old.
He is the newest of our three Grand kids, if Grandma had her way she would be with him every day, she is the big hitter as their special babysitter!

This baby was a gift from God, for him they prayed very hard, for many reasons their plight was extremely tough but the Lord heard and this heavy burden he did lift.
In Westley they have become one, their combined Genes molded into this beautiful Son.

I dedicate this poem to our new Grandson Westley Oliver Wilson

Author Ken

April 20, 2017