Ode to Father

Paragon of perfection, father dear?
Molded from outlands, hewn from rock cities:
The sinewy heart must take without fear
No lonely nor lowly proximities
To build from not, a sure nobility
And spirit of motivation, ripe life
O'erflowing in limitless, fruited trees;
Is not this the path to eternity
To bear 'midst the raspings of mortal strife
For the pinnacle yet extol the breeze?

This her's it

Well folks, this is my new blog where I will post the random and partially-planned happenings of my daily life...

Yup, sounds just great huh? Let me tell you... I feel pretty dang tickled at the prospect! (okay, you can all just quietly smile, nod your head, and go on your merry way)...

I know I can only expect that a few select family members and friends will read anything here posted, let alone make any sense of it.

Regardless, here's one morsel for your trouble:

A simple rhyme,
To pass the time,
Oh, so pleasantly;

That 'fore it's done,
Thou wilst have won,
A spot, o' greenery!