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