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Hey Hey Hey, Bob! I've been looking for you. I was reading your poems today. The ones I kept in my files. I remembered the one I read for Father's Day last year. I have another "dad" poem that you wrote that I will probably use this year, if you don't mind.

Yeah, everybody is old around here. You have no idea what I went through Saturday. I had the gall to promote a Christian Rock Youth Rally with five rock bands. I know that my hearing aid will never be the same. How on earth do those kids stand that noise? Somebody should give me a medal for sitting through five minutes of each band. Then I found "other" things that needed attending to. LOL. It was worth the noise though. Six young people came forward to dedicate their lives to Christ. The Lord and I have had conversation about this. I told him that I agree that it was a good idea, but henseforth, if He wants the children brought out of Egypt, He will have to send somebody else. I have issues with loud noises.

"I have another "dad" poem that you wrote that I will probably use this year, if you don't mind."

I don't mind. Don't forget to ping me.

I don't know what anyone has on file in regard to my poems, and even my files are disorganized. Also, I have not been writing much in the way of poetry. I tend to get bound up in trying to craft stories, and I find that does not come easily.

But every once in a while a phrase or notion sticks in my head and I have to wrest it out in the form of yet another wretched piece of verse. It's like having something stuck in your teeth, you know?

And similarly, the offending morsel is probably not fit for public viewing. However, our heritage is such that we like to share, even when we shouldn't.

Well, I may have fair confidence that you haven't seen this one. I don't think I released it anywhere.

But you may have at it. Perhaps you can explain it to me.

Childhood's End

We have lost our fur, our fangs, and our claws.
Instead of Mother Nature red, we shelter in our laws.
Like sunless insects in our hive, we cannot stand alone,
And this devolving path we tread is one we've made our own.

Childhood lingers longer now. Adults must strain to follow,
The timing lengthens more each turn, our bones must grow more hollow.
We curse our pets with just this fate; we breed them to live longer.
And shed their weapons with a smile. We do not need them stronger.

A puppy or a kitten now; we soon will freeze them true,
In timeless innocence and trust to last their whole lives through.
And as we watch this process grow, we shed another worry,
That He who guides us on this path has not been in a hurry.

There'll come a time when childhood brings a thousand years to share,
While cheerful song and innocence will be our clothes to wear.
And shame and pain and tearfulness will go the way of fangs,
For Him who taught us how to sing without remembered pangs.

NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . May 7, 2010