To My New Grands and Great Grands, Et Al
To Winkin’
Blinkin’
and of course nod.
In terms of
symmetry
prose and
shish kabob.
The tricks and twirls
and polar light;
the flip and flare and star
of kiddy sleepless night
can rip and roar
and rankle up
a juicy fight,
in the twinkle of an eye.
Forget wit and woe
and places to and fro and
things obscure in fuzzy
wuzzy lights to
swing and sway in
wrinkled tights
or sit boldly still
daring you to
a contest of will
hanging in a drop
of drool falling from
yon wounded whipporwill.
Will he will or will he won’t, or
do the thing we don’t?
I see again in terms
of symmetry you see.
But mostly for the rhyme
I hear inside the room
just made for me
in terms of speech and
in the song of my
sweet cooing babe.
© 9/17/2016
Charles G. Henderson
|