Winter, snow,
Geronimo!
Racing down the sled hill.

Wind blows,
Frozen toes,
Bring me more hot cocoas!

-by Nathan Porter (age 10)
  with Ross Porter

Though I have fought my own many wars;
Lived through and settled so many scores;
Avoided those hooks, saw the bait coming;
Learned when to bite and when to keep going;
Still I'm delighted when tasting your dish -
The sweet observation of a much younger fish.
Imaginations it seems are oft better teachers;
Wars and their scores tend more to be preachers.

Two screws in a week have turned loose.
Upholstery? It's needin' a boost.
So off to the carpenter's place,
A quick calming break from the rat-race.

The best looking go daily, you know.
Always ready for their final show
Though weekly's required
to keep ruddy and clear,
Pity those going but twice a year.

Seems like he can fix in a jiff
A heart that has hardened too stiff;
And when soul's window pane
Has grown cloudy again,
He'll wash it and call it a gift!

He forgot his soap
What a dope
No one here can cope
He's worse than campfire smoke

He could of brought it on a rope
So he wouldn't have to *****
Instead he'll mope
For friends he's got no hope

They run when they scope
The boy without his soap
Rolling down the *****
Singing baroque
Like the pope

He tried a bath in coke
Oh what a joke
Because the sugars provoke
Mosquitoes to bite and poke.

Still he stinks like BO and oak
Smells like a singer of folk
Whose hair is matted into rope
Cause he won't use soap
What a dope!

We walked through our youth filled time
Along a common path through life
I oft paid your tolls, you oft paid mine
Together we mastered our trail.

And you stood by me despite the wild and the sea,
Through both the straights and twisted routes.
And when off I forged for a new road home
You walked beside this fool, this me.

And next to you, I was glad to be,
As from your many storms you fought to break free
Though ruts and roots and thrown debris
Hampered your path, we cleared your way.

Then came that cross-roads, that vexed choice
Of different paths to follow ahead
And without even waving good-bye
We took our divergent roads away.

There was that day, I missed your voice
I forged the wood to find you on your path.
But I arrived on a path so strange to me,
I could not chart the course to you.

So back I walked to my own path.
And I missed you and I feared you lost,
So then, at each new crossroads I'd yell
For my old friend, but only silence came in reply.

Then ahead of me on my same path,
One day I met the one who'd share this walk with me.
What a joy to meet her on my same route,
Walking the same trail I had chosen.

So know, please, old friend, though our time
Met it's end, I walk now in joy
Hand in hand with a lovely soul
Who lights my path as I light hers

We chose separate byways long ago
But still I would like you to know
I found  joy along my new path
And I pray that you have found it too.

You who've found love, I hope that you see,
The creative power of its majesty,
And do seek not by the power of Love,
To change once a hawk, into a dove.
Love's power is, the Pow'r above all,
To give response, To answer this call:

"Write stories large of thy life on earth;
Passing those on through giving of birth.
Birth ye a child, or birth ye a song,
The power of Love is thy chance to live on.
Antagonized by hate and Apathy,
The sin is letting these define ye."

This, the command received from on high,
A creator's demand: Go forth, multiply.
Multiply Love, multiply Trust
Multiply Joy in all of us.
Given to answer our quest for our why.
The Creator's answer: my love, multiply.

They bounce, they swing
On crazy trees
Hewn and formed for sleep.

They screech and scream
and kiss and sing
As they lay their heads

They pray, they giggle
and like to snuggle
And often beg for drinks

A Parent's joy,
that nightly chore,
Handling monkeys.