The Air Is Filled
with Golden Light

by Rachel A. Gold

The air is filled with golden light
When I go walking down the street
I seem to feel the envious eye
Of nearly everyone I meet-
My stalwart escort is, you see,
My little son, who's almost three.

His short blond hair looks never combed-
His small white shoes are smudged with gray
His baby chatter fills the air-
He sometimes sings along the way-
And yet with him I love to be-
My little man, now almost three

No other one so gladly seeks
My company through every hour
He brings his hurts and toys to me
His treasures fuzzy worms and flower
How much of joy he gives to me -
My little son - who's not quite three

No other one in the world
So gladly seeks my company,
Or tries, a dozen times a day,
To demonstrate his love to me,
No other one thinks all is right
When I am sitting by his side
Hug tights and kisses gives to me--
My little darling - almost three!