R. K. Hart
R. K. Hart Poems
A Fathers Words To His Child.
Children are the gentle breezes for which parents plea.
They come they play around us then they flee.
We would hold them to our breast,
Protecting against all of life's dreadful tests.
You teach and doggedly hold.
But the day must come when they break from the mold.
With resounding break of a parental heart.
They step away, a life of their own to start.
I watched a beautiful young woman as she stepped the isle.
With maids surrounding she flashes her parents a comforting smile.
Where is the tomboy, who bowled the boys out?
And where is our back yards ...
Wise Men Say.
There are things to search for in your days.
There are things to hunt down to correct our ways
Attributes that make us better men.
Better men for both our wives and children.
One such thing I have found a difficult item to trace.
I have searched mountain high and valley low for grace.
Grace is a difficult thing to grasp.
When I think I have a hold it slips away and laughs.