POEM FOR RIOT
OFFSPRING
We have
babies! Not only babies , but babies in boxes,
with their mums. Then, a few years later,
they’ve turned into giggly girls and noisy boys.
next we have teenagers, lithe and lovely,
leaping like kangaroos – such joy!
Young adults enter – strong and supple,
hoping to turn pro – moving in their innocence.
finally the Elders, doing their best
in spite of gammy legs and crumbling hips,
broken shoulders and arthritic knees
don’t stop us – nothing does; and when
five lucky ones are lifted in the air.
and as Mafalda says – you fly-
where do we go? Why, to Heaven of course!
with their mums. Then, a few years later,
they’ve turned into giggly girls and noisy boys.
next we have teenagers, lithe and lovely,
leaping like kangaroos – such joy!
Young adults enter – strong and supple,
hoping to turn pro – moving in their innocence.
finally the Elders, doing their best
in spite of gammy legs and crumbling hips,
broken shoulders and arthritic knees
don’t stop us – nothing does; and when
five lucky ones are lifted in the air.
and as Mafalda says – you fly-
where do we go? Why, to Heaven of course!
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