“First Born Son - Wynn”

Upon a dawn’s soft, golden rise,  
There came a cry, both bold and wise—  
A herald from the world unknown,  
The light that makes a house a home.

Wynn, first-born, with eyes anew,  
A comet’s gleam, a morning dew,  
The woven promise of two hearts—  
A story just now set to start.

Tiny fingers, fist so tight,  
Curl ‘round dreams wrapped in white;  
A legacy not yet begun—  
All tomorrows in just one.

He holds the hush of early spring,  
The echo of his mother’s singing,  
His father’s laughter, warm and mild,  
All bundled up within this child.

He is a name whispered with pride,  
The hope his family cannot hide.  
He’ll learn to run on open grass,  
To find the sun as seasons pass.

First born, Wynn—his gentle way  
Will gather starlight for his day,  
And those who love him, one and all,  
Will rise anew at every call.

He is the first, the bright, the one—  
The world is wide, dear little son.  
With every year your story grows,  
A blossom no one else could know.

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