24 January 2015

Poem: Ten-Year Old Boys…

I think there's something to Ford Prefect's observation: “If they don't keep on exercising their lips, he thought, their brains start working.” (From Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, chapter 5, by Douglas Adams.”


Oi! Ten-year old boys… 

Oh! But they’re smelly…
And they’re - Oh! - so suddenly loud… 
They emanate such mephitic vapors…
Can they never stop moving and jolting and jostling? 
Why, oh, why are they ever so stinky… 
And, Lord above! They never stop talking!
And, withal, ever and ever more noisome!
Too clever by half, they know too much! 
Really! What a malodorous olfactory assault! 
They don't know enough to know they don't know enough!
And - oh, by the way - did I mention? 
They’re really quite odiferous.

But…Ahhh! Ten-year old boys…

He’ll hug you still, heedlessly…
And gaze adoringly up at you from that still cherubic face.
He squeezes you, so tight, so joyfully…
Always running headlong for joy, ever so endlessly bold…
His embraces remain spontaneous…
He’s in all things still filled with the glorious wonder of the new…
And, still, he wants to snuggle his mama…
What I have to say still matters to him…
He cleaves to me still, aggressively…
He cherishes and admires me and thinks I’m cool…
And still can’t go to bed without his hug and kiss goodnight.
He steals my heart every moment all over again
Each time he folds himself into my embrace.

“Pride is one of the seven deadly sins but it cannot be the pride of a mother in her children, for that is a compound of two cardinal virtues -- faith and hope.” by Charles Dickens

by D. Denise Dianaty
© 2014 MomzillaNC






Pick up your own copy of my first book of poetry at My Life In Poetry