Twenty One
When first they're born, they learn, they grow;
They change each day and need us so.
Still infants in their wants and ways:
Beguile, enthrall, begin to age.
The winsome years are one through three.
Our heart is theirs and just may be;
We will survive and make it through,
That time we call "their terrible two's".
Then comes the child of four or five.
Their thirst for knowledge now alive.
Our patience they will often chafe.
The challenge is . . to keep them safe.
Before we know they're nine or ten:
Look up to us; we're still their friend.
Their needs for us are day to day.
They learn life's rules at school, at play.
Now comes the time they're in their teens.
Such maddening years, betwixt - between.
Still part the child they once portrayed:
Adulthood can seem miles away.
A dangerous time, this narrow road.
How easily values may erode.
A sudden slip toward left - or right;
Before it starts, they've lost the fight.
But most get through and most grow up.
It's then the Lord has filled our cup.
An era of relief's begun,
That glorious day they're twenty one.
Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015
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