Old Lang Little League

When baseballs fall onto the ground

Between young gloves and hands

The 6 and 7 year olds yell

And parents strike up the band

“Little League is fun, young kids

Little League is fun!!

So eat your snacks and swing your bats.

Go dream of a home run.

Last year the sons of Yankees, proud

Took to the field with steam.

An new year bring new hats and shirts

And the Giants are the team

“Little League is fun, young kids

Little League is fun!!

So eat your snacks and swing your bats.

Go dream of a home run.

No more hitting off the tee

The players are one year older

And when they strike out, feeling mad,

Their language is much bolder.

“Little League is fun, young kids

Little League is fun!!

So eat your snacks and swing your bats.

Go dream of a home run.

One player, was he the Dodgers fan?

Has pants on in reverse

He runs and plays most all the days

As parents whine and curse.

“Little League is fun, young kids

Little League is fun!!

So eat your snacks and swing your bats.

Go dream of a home run.

The boys want to look like pros

When their coach steps up to pitch

A hint to kids: not all uniform parts

Deserve scratches when they itch.

“Little League is fun, young kids

Little League is fun!!

So eat your snacks and swing your bats.

Go dream of a home run.

Gunga Homework

The kids squawk about grade five
Homework “eating them alive”
All the parents go mad just trying to keep it straight.
“Did you do your math today?
Smirks are giving you away!”
A pencil sitting on your desk while time gets late.
As the evening sun goes down.
Hear complaints, many a frown
Three boys find excuses both physical and mental
“My folder’s far away from here.
Stupid instructions are not clear!”
They do not understand to sit is elemental.
It is “write, write, write”
You have pencils, brains and paper so please write!
While the math is fresh in mind
The erasers you can find
Put pencil down to paper and just write!!

Even in the grade of one
When kids learn while having fun
My twins learn how to complain with older sibling.
Counting pennies, nickels, dimes.
Reading small books with small rhymes.
Seems to generate big moans and serious quibbling.
Both rewards and punishment tendered.
Has no effect, decision rendered.
Homework is not an easy sale by any means
Parents therefore show a smile
Hoping, dreaming all the while
That a tutor solves the problem before they’re teens.
It is “write, write, write”.
You have workbooks, brains and fingers so please write.
When young, just form the habit.
Opportunity is here, so grab it.
Stop driving parents crazy, please sit in the chair and write!

Saturday Soccer Coach

Four kids per side, colors are bright
Crimson on the left, Yelllow Lightening on the right.
In the middle with stop watch going “tick”
Is referee Dad calling offsides and goal kick.
With parents watching him doing his schtick.

Up goes small hand, smacking the ball
The referee ponders, “sould I make the call?”
Don’t stop the game, “ball still in play!!”
He decides and then he jumps out of the way.
The ball zooms into goal on this hot sunny day.

After four quarters, with kicks quite deft
The 6 year old boys have no energy left.
Forty minutes of running, now end of the game
With snacks galore, the boys become tame.
Eating, not soccer, is their clame to fame.

Old Man and the Lake

Yesterday, a friend and I spent the morning on Shoreline Lake in Mountain View, California learning how to windsurf. Dave and I enjoyed three water-soaked hours of instruction while our 10 year old boys literally did circles around us. Yes, their words were ones of encouragement, but the boys were dry and the dads were wet.

Dave and I are now “certified” to rent equipment and windsurf with our sons. It will be a long time, if ever, for the Dads to be as accomplished as the sons when we are holding a sail out on that lake.


Old Man and the Lake

Last summer at the age of nine
Our big son found talent galore
Catching the wind on board
Then surfing from shore to shore

“Join me on the lake”
He said to his creaky-kneed Dad
“We’ll race the morning away
I promise you’ll be glad.”

He made it look so easy
And he was just a kid.
My confidence abounded
I could do it like HE did.

With life vest and a swagger
Private lesson on the beach
I crawled onto the board and stood
For the uphaul line I did reach.

The sail was supposed to rise straight up
From salt water to strong hand
I proved a “Santiago” to this Marlin
Muscles struggling just to stand

Old Man on the Lake was I
Fighting wind and natures best
After falling over a dozen times
In water I did rest.

The ten year old circled expertly
“C’mon Dad, I know you can!!”
He screamed with strong encouragement
Gliding gracefully far from land.

The joyous moment then did arrive
As I stood and raised the sail
Being “one with wind” and bending knees
I captured a mighty gale.

The wind did push, and puff and blow
The boom and mast did shake
The board moved forward with steady speed
And kicked up a tiny wake.

Cheers erupted (OK, not really)
But without warning the wind just stalled
Losing balance, the smiling old man windsurfer
Took a mighty but happy fall.

a week at end

This poem is in the uncapitalized style of E. E. Cummings. It's Friday. The kids have been in camp all week and my wife has been a social media maniac from sunrise to sunset. The weekend is welcome.


a friday so nice
to end the week
chicken and rice
the calm we seek
arrives today
and grows grows

a camp of tech
the older of boys
he made a wreck
geek games and toys
adventures on screen
he knows, knows

to run and play
two younger of boys
in sports all day
made lots of noise
big water balloons
use hose, hose

the beautiful wife
so busy so sweet
tells story of life
with blog and tweet
her smile so bright
It glows, glows