A Poem: Flown, Grown, And On Their Own
The lists get longer...and harder to find!
Keeping track of birthdays...
The years roll on, too swift for sure
Five children grown and flown.
Their laughter welcome and so pure;
More children now... their own.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"When is that next birthday dearest?
I hope we don't forget.
It seems like there's one, the nearest
too, no wonder we still fret."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When they were here beneath this roof.
the warnings sounded clear:
'It's coming, Dad! and here's the proof:
It's been another year!'"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Now, just us two to keep track of
those dates, should be so clear;
When we think to express our love:
"We've lost the dates I fear!"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"The computer has them, I am sure!"
(Such little solace gives!)
"It was easier then for sure;
"Our minds are like two sieves!"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"The great big gaps, can't hide the lapse,
'Our memory's destroyed.'
"I'll check it soon, right now it's noon.
"Let's eat, not get annoyed."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"The computers on, which file shows
the answer to our prayers?"
"We wrote it down. Goodness knows!
On our machine, or theirs?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"The time sped up, of this I'm sure.
'twas bad enough with five!"
"Forget it all; my mind's not sure.
And now, there's a whole hive!"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Don't bother dear!" was nice to hear.
Like a kiss upon the cheek.
She then went on, assuaged my fear:
"I mailed one late last week."
© 2011 Demas W. Jasper All rights reserved.