Buck Surely

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The Best Poem Of Buck Surely

I Wish I Could See Henry Again

I wish I could see Henry again,
one of the wisest of my old kin.
With a white dusty beard and a large straw hat,
he could talk for ages about nothing but that!
His wrinkles were deep and his wisdom was bottomless,
the grin on his face would engage at the thought of this.
As a philosophy major, his words were often confused,
by the masses as gibberish the mental would use.
He taught me to believe in things greater than I,
searching for understanding with knowledge always nigh.
How to begin the story of the relationship we had
has filled me with ambition produced by a warm-hearted gad.

Meeting Henry for the first time it seems
is a mind growing chance, especially for teens!
His insight was respected by people of all ages,
particularly me for I looked up to sages.
It was Baltimore town where I first found this fellow,
on a Christmas Eve night that was ever so mellow.
He was in his classic brown chair telling of a great myth,
about a god named Hephaestus, the supreme blacksmith.
“This man cannot be! ” I said with a shock;
“His thoughts are endless; his opinions have no measurable stock! ”
(Of course I did not speak then as I do now,
but leave me alone; I’m trying to be highbrow!)
He looked unto me when he finished his story
and said “What of you Buck? Did you enjoy my mental inventory? ”
I said “Yes sir, may I please have another? ”
He answered with a tale that had a twist to uncover.
“This man is the greatest, this man is supreme;
he can humble your heart and heighten your dreams.
I must speak with him now while his faculties are with him;
the worst thing would be to squander this wisdom.”
I leapt from my chair and said “Come with me! ”
I led him to the kitchen where we could talk in privacy.
I asked him questions of this and of that;
he answered them all as quick as I spat!
His face seemed to light up with every query I shouted;
he was happy to reply, this I never doubted.
Dinner time came and the conversation was over,
but that was quite far from being any closure.
We left the next morning after the presents were unwrapped;
I walked away from that house with more questions untapped.
I was forced to wait for nearly a year,
to speak with the man who brought me great cheer.

Now it was Thanksgiving and I had better things in mind,
than turkey and stuffing, both balloons for the behind.
I needed to speak with Henry and this 12 hour drive was not helping!
We were caught in traffic and my parents did not care for my yelping.
My nerves were unhinged by the constant honking;
I thought of Henry’s stories as a source for some calming.
Finally we arrive at the destination expressed,
it was dark outside and Henry wanted rest.
“I cannot speak now” He might as well have said forever!
There’s no way I can wait all night! This is too large of an endeavor!
I spent the rest of the evening tossing and turning,
thinking of my questions that, to my heart’s core, remained burning.

Sunshine washed into my temporary bedroom like an ocean’s tide;
“It’s morning? IT’S MORNING! ! YES! ! ! ” I cried.
Away down the stairs I flew like a flash;
tore open the kitchen door and smelled the morning hash(browns) .
Henry was there in his bathrobe and such,
drinking his coffee and eating grapes by the bunch.
Before saying good morning I began spouting out questions,
“What about this and this” among other suggestions.
I was speaking so fast he could hardly comprehend;
he did answer them, of course, refusing to condescend.
Henry was always the best at that;
giving knowledge without disdain or spat.
Every answer received was given with respect
and to be a caring listener is all that he would expect.

One day not too soon there will be,
a teen-aged kid just like me,
whom will write of his grandfather’s lectures
using very little conjectures:
“I wish I could see Buck again, one of the wisest of my old kin.
With a white dusty beard and a large straw hat,
he could talk for ages about nothing but that! ”

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