Sunday, 10 July 2011

Ode on a Man as Old as a Grecian Urn

By Amy Keats

Thou decrepit husband of an e’re patient wife,
Thou aged father of silent and sweet progeny,
Wise historian who canst explain a life
As well and quickly as this short ditty:
What number of chocolate chip cookies haunt thy shape?
And untold hamburgers and cheetos too,
And cutting back could not eliminate
Their cholesterol and fatty residue.
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
The battle of the bulge against your weight?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, keep ye hearing aid turned down,
And much like Grandpa Kay, and as endeared,
We will talk and joke as you observe and frown.
Fair youth, thou hast made haste to leave
The ravaged outer shell so stripped and bare
Of muscle tone and vigor long missed
At sixty though one should not grieve
Your loss of energy or shake your fist
At least you got to keep, though greyed, your hair.

Ah, happy, happy man! That cannot shed
Your wife, nor ever bid your kids adieu,
And happy father, unwearied,
You children’s boxes of junk will always be with you.
Their bills arrive in the mail each day,
Some even retain your Master and Visa cards,
Forever wanting, and forever needy
You should cut the cord and move away.
Alas construction has your house in shards,
Preventing your needed escape to Yosemite.

And now the time to count the Sacrifice
You have made for God and family
To think you would throw it out on dice
Texas Hold’em or the Poker World Series.
What glorious fortress of Gondor built by the Sea
Oh Mountainous house painted blue and gold
With a large backyard and well used ping pong set
To challenge your young to try and upset thee.
A place to chase grandchildren oh so bold,
And teach them that Joe Bruin will triumph yet.

Oh old man, how you age, how you decline,
But you have taught us well, and can depart
The gospel that you lived continues to shine
We have Christ’s love deep within our hearts.
Throughout eternity, men rise and fall
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shall be gone, in midst of all our woe,
But you shall celebrate, due to Christ’s amazing grace
“God is truth, and God is love”- that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

Happy 60th Dad, I love you!

For those of you who love Keats, my apologies for the above travesty. For those of you who love words, how often do you get to see the word travesty used correctly? For those of you who don't know my Dad, don't worry, he is very youthful and skinny and a practical joker known for bringing a walker as a gag gift to friend's 30th and 40th birthdays, who constantly discusses the old age and physical decline of his wife and children, and would not find any of the above ribbing anything but amusing.

1 comment:

Great Aunt Gretchen said...

I just figured out whose blog I"m reading! When I saw a picture of Tom Cox, I realized you are his daughter!! I am Gretchen Stevens, Robin's sister and just began reading your blog this week. Now I will read it with even more interest and prayer!
Gretchen Stevens