Sunday, June 17, 2012

SHOOTING STARS and FIREFLIES


click on any photograph to enlarge for a closer view

His Dad
for D.M.S

A Boy and His Dad
by Edgar Guest
A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip
There is a glorious fellowship!
Father and son and the open sky
And the white clouds lazily drifting by,

And the laughing stream as it runs along
With the clicking reel like a martial song,
And the father teaching the youngster gay
How to land a fish in the sportsman's way.
I fancy I hear them talking there
In an open boat, and the speech is fair.
And the boy is learning the ways of men
From the finest man in his youthful ken.
Kings, to the youngster, cannot compare
With the gentle father who's with him there.
And the greatest mind of the human race
Not for one minute could take his place.

Which is happier, man or boy?
The soul of the father is steeped in joy,
For he's finding out, to his heart's delight,
That his son is fit for the future fight.

He is learning the glorious depths of him,
And the thoughts he thinks and his every whim;
And he shall discover, when night comes on,
How close he has grown to his little son.

A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip—
Builders of life's companionship!
Oh, I envy them, as I see them there
Under the sky in the open air,

For out of the old, old long-ago
Come the summer days that I used to know,
When I learned life's truths from my father's lips
As I shared the joy of his fishing-trips.
  

Father and Son
For W.J.S.
Keepsakes
Left--A Roadster on the back of a medal with St. Joseph on the front
Right--
"Oratoire Du Mont Royal" with St. Joseph on the back
Top--Commemorative of the City of Rome, NY
Bottom--
Commercial High School's The Ledger

 
 Her Daddy
by Ms. 
She didn't 'go-fish' with her giant of a father,
except when she could get him to play cards,
but he hoisted her up six feet to his shoulders
at the much anticipated end-of-week arrival, 
She'd never be so tall as in those days long ago
when three familiar families joined together,
sharing one communal Summer vacation rental.
It was a time when working class wives were home,
Fathers disappeared weekdays into the wider world
with it's mystery they never discussed at supper.
School closed for three months!  It meant freedom,
screened in sleeping porches, ice cream cones,
beach sand everywhere, waves to plunge through,
or lakes to float upon, woods to explore, staying up late,
 easy board games, drive-in movies in pajamas,
the company of cousins, suddenly permissive adults,
space to dream, shooting stars and fireflies.



2 comments:

deanna7trees said...

nice reading about the joyous times with your dad.

Nancy said...

Fine memories you've shared. :)