David S Harkins

Rookie (In The Fifties! / Baden, PA)

Daniel, My Son - Poem by David S Harkins

Daniel, my son, you are younger than me,
But we both know that you are more mature than I'll ever be,
You were PFC Daniel Harkins, first gunnery man,
In your platoon at Ft. Sill in Oklahoma land,
While you were in AIT to defend our fair land.

You are nineteen and grown up a lot,
Why when I was your age I was roofing and burger flipping and doing
what not.
Now you are working with Identity Group at the shop,
Soon to be learning the trade and profession of typesetter to make you
hop.

You are married now and Danielle your lovely wife,
My daughter-in-law is a mighty fine person who gives you no strife.
You play video games and skateboard still,
But working and writing web pages for Dad is going to give you the best
thrill.

You're much father along than I'll probably ever be,
You BEDO while I try to DOBE and Gary knows that I love you SOBE.
I wish you would let the Lord rule in your life again,
I know you saw some hypocrisy and mayhem,
But oh my son, the Lord takes care of His own,
So get right with Him and bow before His throne.

I'm amazed at your grasp of life,
And I know you want no strife,
However, you do need to tone down your temper towards especially me,
Or else they will be calling you, your sister and me, the Bipolar
Three.

Live long and prosper and be ready at the judgement day,
Keep unto the one that the Lord so kindly gave unto you,
Bend down on your knees from time to time and pray,
And thank the Lord that Rooster crowed when you made hay.

Oh son, do not despise me when I ask for assistance,
Just know that I will always come at you with persistence.
Remember the days of your youth when you were twelve,
How we communicated with the webtv and into life we started to delve.

Make most of your still youthful life,
And watch out for your sister, mother and wife.
Life is fleeting from day to day,
No one knows how the morrow will play,

So buy up the time and get in school,
And work your butt off and just be Kewl.
For tomorrow may never come and even if it does,
Today is really the only time on this earth we have to get things done.

Love,
dad


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Poem Edited: Tuesday, June 15, 2010


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