A Note on Pindar
Okay, I know most of you do not show up here to listen to me wax philosophical, so I won't. Instead I present this poem.
An Ode to Parenthood
Most sweetly now the children rest
Fond dreams held tightly to each breast,
An honor to the King.
Yet not two minutes e'en have passed
Since they've destroyed and rent the cast
Of each and ev'ry thing.
Yes, Grandpa's muse, her eyes beguile
Twisting and tempting with her smile,
His wallet she has won.
But where's he at when she tinkles
Or soils stuff with choc'late sprinkles
Or lies 'bout stuff she's done.
No, sleeping angels with clipped wings,
Though blessed with love and all that brings
Can still a pain inflict,
But lest I seem too overjoyed
Without them there would be a void
Just like a nose that's picked.
It's not Pindaric in any form, but it is written in the form of Thomas Gray's elegant and oafish "Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat".
posted by Cool Dad at Thursday, August 04, 2005
5 Comments:
Yes, time does fly and they will by gone by and by.
As the Secretary of Defense, let this be a warning you that you are provoking the Wizard. Do not be surprised if he joins forces with the Evil Genius.
Ode To My Grandchildren:
I am not very good at verse,
but I can't be much worse,
Than the King, who dabbles at prose,
trying to share with us all he knows,
The King and Queen got married when quite old,
A rowdy child, they think they must scould,
Their life of solitude came to an end,
When they let little touchdown come in.
Her little spirit is so unique and true,
I hope they don't ruin her, because they have no clue.
Little touchdown, don't give in, Grandpa will rescue you, we will win.
One more thing, The Wizard knows his job, spoil them and then give them back to the King and Queen.
Love it! I think it is so visual. Beautiful poem!
Post a Comment
<< Home