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Updated on October 13, 2009




A thousand heads  
bob like apples
in the vast bucket
of the Atlantic
but only one tousled
head concerns me
as I watch him frolic in
God's age old water park
teeter-tottering up,
and slip sliding down
each roller coaster wave
as he giggles
shouting joyfully at
each hills approach
how deeply enlightening
it is to see
one's own miniature
creation set afloat
in a vast masterpiece
of God's portfolio
Occasionally a passer-by
blocks my fatherly view
leaving me praying and cursing
in uni-son till I see
his cherished head sailing high
on a smile bent by
the spittle of the
tides endless spews
soon enough he'll run reluctantly
back to his natural habitat
into the cotton
bedecked arms of Dad
in answer to my beck
and bending finger
then towel dried
and coconut scented
he'll hold my hand as we
leave behind him
999 more heads still
bobbing like apples
under the watchful
loving eyes of their families
till they too are plucked
by anxious lips opened wide
to rouse them from the swells
of this party place
in the sun.



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