Robert Winthrop Poems
|2.||A Sonnet To Youth||1/20/2012|
|5.||The Old Water Tower||1/21/2012|
|8.||My Uncle And Mark Twain||1/21/2012|
|10.||The Last Ones Chosen||1/21/2012|
|11.||The Real Shoeless Joe||1/21/2012|
|13.||A Fortunate Meeting||1/21/2012|
|14.||Happy Days, Hannibal Style||1/21/2012|
|15.||...And Come Back A Star||1/21/2012|
|16.||A Brave Friend||1/21/2012|
|17.||I Lived On Pleasant Street||1/21/2012|
|19.||The Blue-Plate Special||1/19/2012|
|20.||Lone Kid On The Block||1/21/2012|
|22.||A Brother's Touch||1/19/2012|
Comments about Robert Winthrop
A Brother's Touch
When we were kids and sent to bed
When dusk had barely passed,
My brother Tom and I would play
A game, "I Touched You Last."
We'd lie there in our double bed
Where nothing could be seen,
And then a hand would slowly snake
Across the space between.
"I touched you last, " we'd say and then
Edge back across the bed.
The other one would wait awhile,
Pretending to be dead.
Then he would reach one finger out
And touch the other's arm.
"I touched you last! " he'd shout with glee
Then scoot away from ...
Are aprons passé? There may still be a few
That say 'Kiss the Cook' when men barbecue.
For Gram they were vital; they saved her good dress
When cooking and cleaning or clearing a mess.
They dried all our tears when as children we'd cry,
And they covered our heads when we'd be feeling shy.
They served as a basket for bringing in eggs,
And aprons worked great for cleaning skinned legs.