Tuesday, October 22, 2013

The next generation


He screwed up his nose
Unafraid to give offence
Unimpressed the
Maternal extension of himself
Should attempt to feed
Him something else
Than mothers milk
He is still to learn the
Protocols of civility

He is learning the
Boundaries of civility
The ones he can transgress
His hair has gone
From short to long
His style and fashion
More his own, and
Cute is loosing
Its appeal

She has learnt
To push the boundaries
More tigress cub
Than princess
Unafraid to stand her ground
Will speak her mind with a smile
An arsenal fully equipped
Of burgeoning female skills
More coy and sharp than cute

Grandpa sits and wonders
How this came about
Not the facts of life
Those he knows
But this generation
It’s grip on life so bold
What will he tell them
That’s of worth, he’s still
Working that out himself

Perhaps grandpa’s role
Is not to talk and tell
But to create a space
Where they are loved
Where they can know
It’s save to fail
For failing is never the end
It’s just
A new beginning

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