LITTLE BOYS

Every boy wants to be a super-man.

If I ask my brother, he would understand;

As he shot up the west with a wooden gun

And rode his stick horse in the high noon sun.

His newspaper airplanes flew high in the trees,

A broken umbrella protected the seas.

The fish hid deep in the walls of the brook

So he could not catch them with the worm on his hook.

And what do you think happens to those little boys?

They never grow up; they just find bigger toys.

…

LITTLE GIRLS

I was a pretty little girl one time;

All women were, at least in our minds.

Practicing twirls in make-believe worlds.

Red and black pigtails, and polished up nails;

Girls can’t wait until they are grown,

So they can go shopping and talk on the phone.

Mommies are wonderful beautiful queens,

Daddies are heroes in hit movie scenes.

Before we can wipe up the milk that we spill,

Time’s magic wand turns our dolls into real.