By Paul E. Schindler, Jr.
Am I sometimes sad?
You bet I am.
Am I dad?
Yessiree
I’ll fill that role
With customary glee.
I contemplate the road ahead,
But in the long run, we’re all dead,
As economists often said.
Twixt here and there, I plainly see:
Hugs and kisses from my wife,
Who’s given me this wonderful life.
Plus now and then I’ll spend a day,
With my grandson who will love and play.
My daughters, both, it is clear,
Will still fill me up with cheer.
That’s why they call it the present,
I’ll choose to dwell there because it’s pleasant.
All the fear and worry in the world
Never kept a disaster furled.
What will happen? No one knows.
Until then, count my blessings,
On fingers and toes.
The Road Ahead Footnote
Can poems have footnotes?
Yes indeed
The Road Ahead, my muse decreed.
She’s wasn’t here for quite a while,
This morn she returned and smiled.
She didn’t force me up at four;
She waited til I ceased to snore.
This poem:
Neither Iliad nor Odyssey be;
Just doggerel rhymed ABAB.
It sounds good when read aloud,
And so I choose to be quite proud.
