The Rose Bush that I planted gave solace to my heart.
A thing of beauty it would be if I gave it a good start.
So I tended it with vigor and I watered it with care
And soon its blossoms’ fragrance wafted through the air
And in my mind its robust branches reached up for the sky
But it wasn’t two weeks later that the aphids sucked it dry
The little girl I nurtured was wise beyond her years,
With a gentleness for helpless things that filled my soul with tears.
She’d surely be a doctor or a teacher or a nurse
She’d have appreciation for art and prose and verse
Now she’s a young beauty with skin as pure as snow
But on her thigh, she sports a “tat” of some guy I don’t know
The little boy I cuddled as he sat upon my knee
Had a gift for words and letters and he learned to read by three
He’s bound to be an orator, his speeches will inspire
He’ll fight for right and justice; he’ll set the world on fire.
But now he’s always looking down, he’s texting on his phone
And the only words we hear from him are a grunt, a snort or groan
The guy I pledged to walk with until the very end,
Possesses many virtues, he’s my lover, he’s my friend.
And as we walk life’s journey, he always has been there,
To laugh with me, to comfort me or just find things to share
But though he is my hero, in his armor, there are chinks,
I hate to have to say it, but he burps and farts and drinks
We humans strive for such control, we plan and plot and scheme
While life moves on, with no regard, a swiftly flowing stream
Don’t deny your aspirations; or your quest for the ideal