Dare I This, To Such Marvelous Dreams Dream

Dare I This, To Such Marvelous Dreams Dream A baby, once in a small wooden crib, Humanity's seed, vestige of Adam's rib I watch as he nurses then falls to sleep The afternoon sun, beaming golden deep Quiet spreads, contented soul sets to muse I wake, he is six now trying on shoes Lo! I marvel at how fast the years flew I pray that, he becomes a brave man too Such that sets himself a poet to be A great dream, such as once stirred in me. As night falls, he mumbles rhymes in his sleep I hear that music, my soul begins to weep Dare he to such a heavy burden choose When wicked world and odds say he will loose I hope, I beg, fruitful blessings on he And that a sincere poet he may be A true believer, still a child at heart One to study the masters, their great art Promise of a world and a life to grow Born to feel this deep love, its mighty flow. May treasures of words fall into his lap Afternoon sun glows, I wake from my nap Aghast, I see my son bottle in hand Yet a baby, 'twas just a loving dream A magical trip down a wondrous stream I ponder, do my words his mind compel And perhaps gift poetry's loving spell I fear, knowing in dark times it is hell To him, I shall not such morbid thoughts tell Tho' I toss coins in that wishing well. I shall speak of poetry and its gems As sparrow hawk across blue-cast skies skims Floating in summer air, happy and free Just above forest's magnificent trees And flower meadows singing out that tune The splendor of bright sunny days in June And I, his proud father cheering him on My son, a man, a fine poet now grown Dare I this, to such marvelous dreams dream That son and I, one day be such a team! Robert J. Lindley, Dec. 9th, 2006 Edited, Feb 5th, 2021 Rhyme, ( A Dream And A Great Blessing Once Wished Long Ago ) Note: 2-05-2021 Alas! A dream that has not yet come true my son now fourteen told me he likes poetry but thinks writing is not for him. I ask what then? He says, Dad, I do not know yet. I think perhaps a glimmer of hope yet remains, as he gets older and a bit wiser. I will let him choose his path in life, but will also attempt to set him towards writing poetry as a pastime, a hobby. Hope being a wonderful thing.