When the summers heat is sweet

I grow anxious over the chance to meet/

A child that I soon hope to greet/
I wish to hold your hand/

Admire you when you first stand/

Even show you the magic of Disneyland/
Eager to grapple intellectually with new life/

Teach you how to cope with strife/

And show you the elegant majesty of my wife/
It’s a thought ever so wild/

I’ve reached a point of contemplating a child/

And only afraid of your mother teaching me how your hair is styled/
The time is coming, soon it’ll be your day/

You’ll be born and here to stay/

With us guiding you, the next generation of Hemingway/

Poetic Ice
(Disclaimer: Just a creative post, not an announcement. Any notice of nativity will be amazingly creative and/or nerdy