Ode to Easton upon the day of Christening

We see the wonder of all in your eyes

As they explore an array of objects:

A rocking horse, table, a new surprise

Of shaped and shapeless toys.  Your ear collects

Their accessibility with, “Easton,

I-Pads are not meant for little children.”

Or, positively, “Yes! Play the keyboard

My young musician.”  The verbal reward

Entertains us with your squeals of delight.

 

We hear your sounds of joy, or discomfort,

And we hope we received your message right.

 

To watch you is like watching a concert

With all your senses striking notes and chords.

With revered design you shuffle towards

The closed door gates and you rattle the bars

Looking for a larger stage.  After all, stars

Can’t be contained.  And now, “It’s Splish Splash time.”

Your father lifts you from the carpet floor

To bring you forth to the watery rhyme

Of yet another always open door.

 

In this, exaltation, we will agree,

Easton has a penchant for Blackberry!

 

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