Boys and Poetry (Two Things That Go Together Like Oil and Water)

We are only about four months away from welcoming another little boy into our family, when our fourth grandchild and first grandson comes along in October.  My husband and I have fallen madly and completely in love with our three granddaughters, and would not have been at all disappointed if this latest Pearl was going to be another wee lassie.  But I must say, it will be fun to have a little lad in the mix.  I miss having little guys around (and big guys, too, for that matter!).  There is something uniquely wonderful about the way boys think and talk and move and play.  I thought having all sons was the best, despite the fact that half the world believed I'd been cheated somehow by not getting any daughters.  (But here's the great news: when sons get married, they bring sweet daughters home to you, all raised nicely and ready to be your friends!  Thanks, boys!)

If you come to this blog often, you know that I sometimes like to go the lazy route and re-post oldies but goodies--especially on Saturdays.  I have over 1,000 posts in my archives now, and I doubt you've read them all (unless you're one of about four or five people I know who check in without fail and give me the business if I skip a day); and even if you have read them all, you've surely forgotten most of them by now.

Okay, so here's a short paean to those crazy and delightful little creatures called boys, a smile-inducer from three years ago.  Son #3 and Preciosa, this one is for you in particular, as you await the birth of G-man.  (Hmmm...will that be his blog alias?)

Friday, August 26, 2011

A Boy is...

Yesterday, we were at a party and I met a young mother who had one little girl getting ready to start kindergarten. When she found out I'd raised five sons, she gave me that familiar wide-eyed look and said, "Oh, God bless you! Five boys!" I know that there was a time when having five children wouldn't impress anyone, but it sure does now (and then add in that they're all boys, and people stand in awe of you). During the 60's and 70's when my husband and I were growing up, five was a pretty average-sized family, and many people we knew had much bigger families. My husband was one of eight, and a family down the street to whom they were very close had eleven children. So five was really no big deal. But in this age of shrinking families, having five boys will get you comments like, "You're a saint!" My neighbor, a mother of two girls, has said that to me on more than one occasion--to which I can only reply, "I wish!" To me, being the mother of five boys has been a unique joy and privilege, and I thought I'd share a couple of poems about boys that I stumbled upon. Both are very simple and by authors unknown, but they really struck a chord with me. Boys, I believe, are naturally allergic to or repelled by poetry--at least mine are--but it's okay for their mothers to enjoy it. So here goes.

A Boy Is...

Trust with dirt on its face,

 

Beauty with a cut on its finger,

Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair,

And the hope of the future with

A frog in its pocket.

 

God Made the World out of His Dreams...

God made the world out of His dreams,

Of wondrous mountains, oceans and streams,

Prairies and plains and wooded land,

Then paused and thought, "I need someone to stand

On top of the mountains, to conquer the seas,

Explore the plains and climb the trees,

Someone to start small and grow

Sturdy, strong like a tree," and so...

He created boys full of spirit and fun,

To explore and conquer, to romp and run,

With dirty faces and banged up chins,

With courageous hearts and boyish grins.

When He had completed the task He'd begun,

He surely said, "That's a job well done."

 

I'll get back to writing original posts on a more regular basis, pinky swear.  But aren't you glad I posted this?  Aren't those sweet poems?  If you are a mother of little boys, doesn't it make you want to grab them and kiss their grubby little cheeks?  God bless 'em.  And God bless you!