Just as lemons grow on Grandma’s tree,
Diggers, dumpers, cranes and trains multiply in his room.
Just as rain falls from the sky onto his grubby grabby hands
Water arcs endlessly from the hose to fill his leaking rubbish truck.
One spoon will never make a lunch.
He takes two fat handfuls of spoons to the table.
He big-eyes presents; anything in tins, boxes, envelopes.
Mama, Dada, and Santa are his best-loved people.
Will this natural beneficence ever cease?
No worries. Grandma is preparing for it.