Saturday, October 27, 2007
Friday, October 5, 2007
Oh so tiny he was, when my brother was born.
Little fingers, fists as small as acorns.
I loved him from the very start,
Who wouldn’t love such a tiny fart.
I was eight then and he wasn’t even one,
But even then he would listen.
His little eyes would light up,
And little legs would windup,
His lips would twist into a funny shape,
Try as he did, not a sound would escape.
But he didn’t give up, he tried harder still,
Then one day as I perched on the sill,
He looked up at me, with hungry eyes,
And crooned a long “AAAAOW…” to my surprise!
The funny thing is I knew what he meant,
Of course he did have a baby accent,
But it was clear nonetheless,
He was in DISTRESS.
Soon he was fed, and happy again,
He fell asleep smiling in his playpen.
I know why he dreamed so happily,
And it wasn’t the milk in his full belly.
That smile was because he had made his first sound,
His own little voice at last he had found.
Now that little guy has grown quite a lot,
No longer a baby, now he’s a tot,
He talks quite a bit, he knows lots of words,
He can say, “Mama, doggy, and birds”.
He picks up new words wherever he goes,
His little vocabulary just grows and grows.
As smart as he is, and as much as he’s learned,
There is one little thing that keeps me concerned.
I think he has a scratch on his brain,
Now before you panic, let me explain,
He looks perfectly normal on the outside,
I’ve peeked in his ear, to check the inside,
And although it’s mighty dark in there,
I saw nothing that needed repair.
So I’ve decided it must be deep inside,
Where boogiemen and nightmares reside.
Where ever it is I hope it will flee,
Or my sweet little brother will drive me crazy!
Like a scratched CDs will repeat and repeat,
This little guy seems to get offbeat,
His mind won’t move on, it refuses to budge,
On one word, it gets caught in the sludge.
Try as I might, I can’t stop his quote,
And all he will say is, “Boat, boat, boat, boat…”
I try to distract him, or leave the room,
And though he may pause he will always resume.
Once he’s stuck on this word, he won’t let go,
Over and over his voice will echo.
So if you can help him I wish that you would,
Someone else’s help might do him some good.
I love him a lot so try to be gentle,
Please fix him up quick, before I go mental!