My Dad, the Poet

My father has quite a way with prose. In fact, in my opinion, a few of his works ought to be published. My favorite musing of his has to do with his recollection of a night staying in a Greyhound Bus station in Louisville... but I digress. From time to time I will likely post a poem or two of his, if for no other reason than it will fill up space. Seriously though, generally speaking they are really good.

Apparently, while he freshly pondered fatherhood and the future paths his boys might one day take, dad decided to write poems about my younger brother and I. Presented for you here, chronologically, are the poems about me and my little brother Ben.

Jay

Someday maybe Jay will be
An athlete folks will pay to see,
Or maybe to the Congress sent,
Or even become President.
So devilishly handsome he,
A movie star's what Jay might be.
With his strong and powerful voice
A preacher's job may be his choice.
Say, what if Jay, a doctor bold,
Should finally cure the common cold.
Or maybe he will follow me
And try his hand at poetry.
Yes, I'm convinced that Jay can be,
Anything he wants to be,
But mom says he should wait some more,
At least until he's three or four.

Ben

Little Benji's quite a guy
With curly hair and spirits high.
A bouncy-step variety,
The spice of life for mom and me.
So much like his brother Jay,
Yet different in a special way.
His smiling eyes just seem to tell
He'll win your heart and do it well.
Each night he meets me at the door
Same question as the night before.
Right after I park the car,
"Daddy bring me candy bar?"
In quiet times I talk to God
And tell him that I find it odd,
That He's blessed me, spite all my sin,
With number 2 son, little Ben.