Brothers

Brothers

There were no girls,

In my family,

Except,

Of course,

My mother,

We were four brothers,

My mother was the best,

She was the best Mom for boys,

My four brothers,

We are solid,

We are undivided,

We are boys,

We camped together,

We chopped wood,

We fished,

We swam in lakes,

We blew up more than our fair share of air filled,

Canvas covered,

Mattresses,

In tents.

When you camp with brothers,

When you throw knives at each other’s feet,

When you try to drown each other,

When you read comic books in tents together,

When rain is gathering close to your skin,

Your brother is shoulder to shoulder,

You can’t stand to be this close,

And yet, you are huddled,

So tired,

You say, “Get off of me!”

Your mother says,

“Go to sleep, boys!”

“Morning, is coming soon!”

You know,

You are family,

You know,

You are brothers!

There will be no one,

No body,

That will divide you,

Brothers.

Are Brothers,

Forever!

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 29, 2014

A Cherub's Face.

A Cherubs Face

A cherub’s face,

Grace,

Beauty

A bitty thing,

She raises her hands,

She is love,

At her age,

She cannot articulate,

But she wants to say,

“Grandpa”

She wants to say LOTS of things,

But, it is,

“ Blah, blah, bibble,, lha,lah, be, ba, bah, boo”,

And, she is so serious,

I have been here,

Foreigners,

I want to connect,

But,

I say,

Finger,

I say toe,

There is a smile and a want of connection,

A cherub’s face,

An angel,

That God let me see,

In my lifetime!

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 29, 2014

P.S.   This actually a poem about McKenna.  My first granddaughter.  I will write a poem about Grace Paulson, too.  But, I happened to see McKenna last night in her Halloween costume.  She sat next to me in the car.  She looked up at her Grandpa, and the only intelligible word she said in the string of things she was trying to tell me was, “Grandpa!”  I smiled at her and said, “Grandpa!”  She smiled and said, “Grandpa!”  It made my day!

Talkers and Listeners

Talkers and Listeners

My mother was the best,

Once in a while,

We would take a day,

A whole day,

And,

Talk,

I am a talker,

I have a daughter,

 Who is talker,

Her two brothers would listen,

My sons are very patient,

My sons are listeners,

I love my talky daughter,

But, she would talk,

After school,

About every nuance of the day,

At the dinner table,

One of the two boys,

Would say,

“Summarize!”

Now I have a grandson,

Who is talker, too,

He can talk us,

ALL,

Under the table,

I love talkers,

They sublimate life,

Listeners,

Give us peace,

Calm in the storm,

I love my talkers,

And, I am one,

Gracious,

Knows,

Praise be,

For the patient,

Listeners!

Peter Lowell Paulson

My Wife

My Wife

I walk through my house,

I see love in every corner,

My wife puts little things around,

For the season,

She does not need to do this,

There are pumpkins now,

There will be garland soon,

Why does she do this?

Because she loves holidays,

She loves the people,

Who enter our home,

She loves life!

And,

I love,

My wife!

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 29, 2014

Whistling Bird

Whistling Bird

I hear a bird whistling outside,

She sounds as if she is upset,

Another bird is retorting,

The bird says, “Twee-twee-twee-tweet-tt-t!
The second bird seems unnerved,

The second bird,

Says,

“Fphuuut!”

And, both,

Become,

Silent.

Peter Lowell Paulson

October 28, 2014