Post by Joe on Feb 19, 2006 10:47:35 GMT -5
Ode to the Father.
Till the sting of bitter tears kiss new born cheeks
You will nay feel the flight of wings
In the cries of hungry nights
You see the yop of glory thine
Look not upon the dark time as foe
But the friend that reminds us of better times
The iron will that stands the rust
Of sea wind salt and bitter twist
These small tests of the race at large
Cast the level of each mans heart
Set his soul to the challenge forth
To grow and feel past his own thoughts
Action born of the fleeting dream
The want and need and care to scream
Doth low the wail of stagnant rile
For each to grow in his own style
And pass your guide to growing child
Though laugh till fall like fathers wild
They will not listen to your call
But be there ready for their fall.
Joe MacBain
Till the sting of bitter tears kiss new born cheeks
You will nay feel the flight of wings
In the cries of hungry nights
You see the yop of glory thine
Look not upon the dark time as foe
But the friend that reminds us of better times
The iron will that stands the rust
Of sea wind salt and bitter twist
These small tests of the race at large
Cast the level of each mans heart
Set his soul to the challenge forth
To grow and feel past his own thoughts
Action born of the fleeting dream
The want and need and care to scream
Doth low the wail of stagnant rile
For each to grow in his own style
And pass your guide to growing child
Though laugh till fall like fathers wild
They will not listen to your call
But be there ready for their fall.
Joe MacBain