Poetry
I wrote the following poem for my grandson Thatcher Pinkston’s 30th birthday. I read it to him at his birthday party at his parents’ home on August 2, 2021. In 2018. I had given him a poem on his 27th birthday. The two poems have a connection.
Thatcher at Thirty
This is Thatcher’s poem, age thirty.
Compared to 27, not quite so wordy.
No longer concerned with nerdy to flirty.
Poem at 27, assist on Erin catch.
That’s been a perfect match-for-Thatch.
Now new advice I must dispatch,
Get you two behind the latch,
See if you can hatch a batch,
Don’t you worry it will come so natch.
Why this most intrusive opine?
Demand of me answer, that is fine.
So here I reply in simple rhyme.
The only mark you leave behind,
That stands the brutal test of time,
The one thing you can claim “that’s mine.”
Little children in likeness of kind,
Family ties that forever bind,
Your royal, eternal, posterity line.
Don’t let career put you behind.
For all things needed, there’s plenty of time.