Spencer

When Spencer was a little boy
He was a bouncy little ball of joy
A friendly sort of fellow
With a boisterous, happy air

But then before the age of two
We learned he was a genius too
An inventive mini-mastermind
With creativity to spare

No hat was hung quite high enough
No cookie hid too well
No distraction that he couldn't use
To wash his mother's cell

By four he belted ABCs
With operatic zeal
By five he wrote a book for school
And movie tunes would peal

And now at eight the trend goes on
With Pirates of Penzance
With stories, songs, and magic tricks
Our lives are oft enhanced

When Spencer was a little boy
He was a bouncy little ball of joy
A breath of cheerful levity
To everyone he met

And now as he starts growing old
His creativity will break the mold
Assuming that
It hasn't broken yet