This Heart of Life will always be Content
Avoid Dependents; And it would Respond
And who would a Poet's Charge to Comment
When all it could do is a sever a Bond?
This Lousy but Coveted Chain; Worn out by Claws
Whose Beast left unknown save only a scratch
My Heart's own Mystery untested by Flaws
Yet none but your Face can equally match.
Am I yet a Wing? That I need the Other to fly
For Icarus did in his Ignorance fail
So if Feathers can fall, how much more a Lie
When the Sun's Tongue hung my Deeds with a Nail?
How can I fill my Flight if this I Live
Unsettled by Claws, unwilling to Forgive?

What is a Father?
Is he a Person?
A Thing?
Or a Feather?
What is his Life?
Is it Carefree and Spontaneous
Or Tormenting and Strife?

Who is he in which a Person could know?
What are his Abilities which only he could show?
Does he Work, for the sake of a Family?
Or sleeps and pigs around, being a Menace and Lazy?

Who could this man be, to the Eyes of Children,
A Hard Rock or a Soft Leaven?

Does he Pile over Everyone
And takes Control?

Is he the Eagle, the Head of the Nest,
Playing a very important Role?

Does he impersonate Father Christmas
With all his Treats and Gifts?

Is he a Lover, with a Strong Heart for *******
Hugging greatly and giving Love-Lifts?

Does he Pray,
Or Face-Religious?

Or a Braver,
Or Spontaneous?

Is he a Disciplinarian
Wherewithin all Members under him
Are tuned to his Command?

Or a Freester,
Who gives his Kids their darling Freedom
Without any Demand?

Does he care,
For the People and Loved Ones around him?

Is he Provocative,
Uncaring for Anyone behind his Dim?

Mostly, he is the Grass,
Herding the Future for his Offspring?

Or the Lamb,
Stubborn and very Unwilling?

And so, whatever he is,
Or does,
A Father is a Father,
Anonymous or Specific
I wouldn't mind.

Just as long as he has
HEART, STRENGTH, FREEDOM and PROSPERITY,
KINDNESS, BRAVE, PROTECTIVE
And RELIABILITY.

I'll be Glad and Content. As any Son should be.

You can see how Endorsements feed your I
That Shy Ghost whose Casper does not exist
Fare alone for Cause to swallow your Pride
Which when accomplished guides your Star at Best
Just how often do we see your Girls cheer
And Pray for Purpose very Few will get
Hymns they Sing; From Media beg you to hear
Even when such Few harbour Good Intent
I guess those Executives knew your Cue
What would Attract and what would sure Pursuade
Even at Cost your Temple lost its Due
And they cry Happy at your Virtue, fade.
Those Trunks still shrink much to Addict's Delight
So climb your Board and do your Dive in-spite.

Forgive, the two Joyeous Athletes Robust
And leave this Artist consigned and confessed
His Leaves have matured; But Duty he must
Remember the Gladness they each Possessed
Now I know why I never read his Book
Of I's and Me's so favoured by the Youth
His Grinning Plastic took long seen afoot
And his Spy's Kiss succeeded on its Cue
How much more will the Hell of Lover's Fair
Pour Molten Syrup to Souls, who, in spite
Swallow Stubborn Sugars labelled Beware
And the Green-Eyed Monster roared in Delight.
Now I know why your Picture flashed within
The Secret lies on your Pre-Olympic Ring.

Alike to Twin Minds with Hands and Feet possess
Perform their own Stage and make a Good Score
With such Lyrics does their Rhythm address
Defined in the Air; As once did before
Which, in some Ardent but Doubtful Degree
Would deny the Advice handed down in Print
Since they are a Pair submitted to Belief
That to answer those Charges was far too Mint
Much for their Lifted Chins to Cower in Shame
Knowing the Goals they defer would spell their End
But why would they Work so much for a Name
When in Wrinkles are their Numbered Values spent?
There is Reason why the Pool is cleaned Within
To drain-in the Lust; To blue-out the Sin.

This Day, two Biped Ponies each of you ride,
Strolling along the lane Lovers enjoy
To watch this Sweet Scene from way far behind,
A Cheque I'd like to cash-in this Friday
Yes, for Pence-Tales of Romance and Success
Thinking to Follow is easy enough
How many, do those Squirrels squeak at-less
The Time which Currency states on the Rough
I guess Luck's Fair in Friendship does depend
On a Brisket-List sorted in custom
To where each of you in Common does spend,
Well, better than sulk out of sheer boredom.
The Bullseye's paid, admitting my Defeat,
Licking my own Fab's whilst hugging the Street.

From whence we tip to toast the Cocktail new
Too pricey for a Sip, if you ask me
Still, those Pubbers demand your Freshest Brew
Either for Show or Truest Cheers that be
Now who composed the Price which I complain
May rob my Wages on half-month's budget?
You have Defense, though: Is that my Domain
To liver that Sign out of my Pocket?
I suppose either way Purchased or not
Those Senses concerned will take no Notice
With Baskets fare, Bread and Butter forgot
Mix the Lager still Best Friends acquiesce.
The Currant still topped, which to Celebrate
Ignore the Side-Bugs; Light the Good Debate.

To Sing a Song
Of Love, full of Life
Consumes your Inner Carefree
And Compassion.

A Distinct Act of Tones
Bond into One
Notes which blend those Tunes
And squeezes Music-Juice.

A Happy Sound for All
To which when Played,
And Played,
And Played again
It is Finished. But not all.

It stands Forever; Lurking always
In your Memory
A Dainty Feeling to One's Heart
From the very Start
Till the End of your Time.

A Magical Compensation
To Children, Men
Or even to Animals
And Plants who could Hear,
And Feel,
The Warmth of a Song.

The Feelings it Brings,
Is Now and Forever,
Joy and Happiness to All
To Summer, to Fall,
To Winter, to Spring,
And to Everyone's Ears can hear,
And wear,
Like a Ring.

A Gem from your Mouth,
Eaten in Past Times
As One Grows and Improves
The Stamina
It becomes a Jewel
Which can sparkle when opens,
And closes,
And opens again.

It's Fun to know
Why many People would Show,
And Portray,

A Song,
A Grace,
A Feeling,
A Wonder,
A Mystery,
A Medicine for Sadness to All.

The Trail of Tears we Sturdy Braves must face
Shows the Lone Star Maiden who won his Cause
Celebrate! Even Defeat sings your Praise
Now our Songs extract Victory from Loss
Just how Darling Painful this News must be
Which Fifty Swords stab our Sole Hearts intact
We are Respectful here; Just wait and see
If this Edict of Worries paint us Black
This is NOT the Way! My Promise to You
Even though you know me not from Adam
I am a Cowboy mighty Honest and True
West Traditions unite: Godspeed, my Madam!
Look, Diver Boy! The Medal on your Neck
Scowls at your Value and asks you to Relfect.

Even in Third Place the gods carry you
Niko and Nike, both Siblings to your Cause
The Festive Cheer, numbing their Silent Boo
And your Best Bronze Offer was never lost
Which you deserve, definite on Boon's End
Such Shout everyone will always Cherish
Goodbye, Riley! Your Dim Plan was all but Bent
The Assassin turned on you and Perish
Still, Anointing Tears on the Bleacher's Side,
Was but Artificial in its Console
You made a Plan to Upgrade the next time
And Fight till Morning until the next Goal.
Meanwhilst enjoy, and sip to Iberia's Best
With Everyone on-board; And not one less.