The Little One

He walks and runs and teeters sometimes,
He laughs and babbles and occasionally whines.
With solomn look he labors to lift
An oversized toy that's often soon left
For the prize of a cookie or a big blue ball
Or a medium sized dog or a mommy's call.
He crawls and climbs under tables and chairs,
Over cars and blocks and up the stairs.
Forever moving 'til sleep takes hold
Of our beautiful, funny one year old.
Mama takes him and handles with care,
The boy we love, the boy so fair.
He's a tough little kid with a laugh and a smile
And asleep he's an angel, at least for a while.