My children are constantly on the go
It seems like they've got energy to burn
Where it all comes from I surely don't know
But it's a secret I'm willing to learn.
While I struggle to get out of the chair
They're running back and forth across the floor
And before I can even brush their hair
They've escaped and run right out the door.
Outside they're in perpetual motion
Playing a game or climbing up a tree
And as I'm looking for suntan lotion
They're yelling out, "Hay, Daddy, look at me".
No matter how long or how hard they've played
They will always plead for a longer day
So I find an easy seat in the shade
Becoming more weary watching them play.
Where do they get all their vim and vigor
While I seem to get as worn as can be
Well, the only thing that I can figure
They must have siphoned it all out of me
(June 24, 1997)
All the poems on this page are copyright of D.P. Groberg