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.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021
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