A Beautiful Smile

A beautiful smile, a tender face like your mothers,

A generous heart, we should not compare to the others.

You are not them, you are you, wonderous you,

Be proud of that, forever and ever remain true.

Though mistakes will be made my youngest one…

Know in your soul that you are the light of my day, my morning sun.

Judged more harshly than your sister or brother,

This was not my intention, I would never hope for another.

You are perfectly perfect just the way you are,

Bright as the celestial comet or a shooting star.

In your own way, you bring joy to me with every passing day,

Your laugh, sense of humor, funny faces, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Each of you was born into this world with a gift,

Though oftentimes elusive when ensconced in siblings rift.

This is how it always is and how it has always been,

Its just how humans are, it has never been a sin.

Some are born with smart of book, others with common sense,

Some are gilded with a gift of the arts, while some remain on the fence.

This my sweet–is not a defect or a flaw instilled at birth,

Nor a judgement of your character, or a measure of your worth.

For you are worth the world to me, in all you are with your spirit free,

As I watch you mature and grow to become who you will be.

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

The Battle Rages

A battle rages between enemies within,

Subduing the child since time began,

Struggle for acceptance will soon begin,

At times overdone and out-of-hand.

~

A slow painful process is underway,

Fraught with peril and mines aplenty,

The push to maturity and out of play,

Mistakes oh yes, there are sure to be many.

~

Think back in time to the youth of your day,

Try as you might in with grown-ups to fit,

Seen and not heard was the phrase they would say,

The child that you are in the backseat you will sit.

~

Then in your teens, think you’re woman or man,

You speak as an equal, interrupt, interject,

Try as you might, try as you can,

You want to grow up meaning no disrespect.

~

Natural progression as we try to mature,

Neither a child nor yet an adult,

Please let us in we beg, we implore,

As we try to fit in without insult.

~

This thing called maturity both painful and hard,

We all have been through it ourselves,

Tripped on our tongues and cut on a shard,

They’d understand looking back at themselves.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Man-On-The-Moon

The sun sets as the moon does rise,

Orange and red sherbet skies.

The man on the moon from slumber awakes,

To bid goodnight no trouble he makes.

~

Fox and hound and little child,

End of day for meek and mild.

Dreams of tomorrow another day,

To hunt and lop and innocents play.

~

The Infant feeds at mother’s warm breast,

Before for the night she lay her down to rest.

Pray and hope she sleeps through night,

And not awake ‘til first morning’s light.

~

Too much to ask though it may be,

Mother and Father and angel three.

Dream of slumber full night refresh,

A full eight hours, “My God we’d be blessed”!

~

Then Fido he barks must be time to go out,

Jarred from our sleep we scream and we shout.

Climb out of bed quiet as a mouse,

Tiptoeing gently across the floor of the house.

~

Open the door and out Fido goes,

Angel stirs, then whimpers then bellows.

“Now look what you’ve done!” at Fido we yell,

How long she’ll be up only the clocks time will tell.

~

Then off to her room, the mobile turned on,

With a “shhhh” and a pat back to sleep she has gone.

Nary a sound back to bed we did slink,

Blanket pulled tight, we dared not to blink.

~

As our heads hit the pillow our hearts they did slow,

We’ll give this thing sleep another college go.

No other sounds nor stirs or cries,

Another few hours of gratefully closed eyes.

~

That Man-On-The-Moon must have been up to no good,

Our night he disturbed way more than he should.

As sunlight streamed in to welcome the new day,

Tonight’s another night, what more need I say.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Forsaking Our Future

I wrote this poem some time ago about our governments handling of education.  I continuously hear from both sides of the aisle that in order to strengthen our nation, we need to invest in our children’s educations.  Well, I’m sure that I am not alone in voicing disgust with our elected officials.  In every budget discussion, you will hear them crying to reduce funding for public education.  I’m sorry, but you can not invest in education while cutting its funding, it does not work.  There are many, especially on the right, that would like to see public education destroyed in favor of privatization (if they had their way everything would be privatized), but myself, my parents and their parents before them as an example, all are/were products of a public education and have done quite well for themselves just as many of you probably have.  This piece is my way of voicing my frustration with our system of partisan politics using a farming analogy.

~~

Crops lays abandoned,

Overrun with the sprawl of weeds.

The young ripe for the picking,

Left to rot in the noonday sun.

Government touts the virtue of our crops,

Pleading for us to do more,

While refusing to help cultivate.

“It’s just too expensive.”,

Saying we need to invest more,

As they chop, chop, chop,

Down the ivory halls.

Instead we placate our appetites,

Feasting on imported produce from distant shores.

Why do we not sow our own?

The seeds lay before us,

Waiting for the planting.

All the while, seasons come and go,

Leaving sun swept earth,

Arid and untended.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

To Be A Child Again

Image Credit: fastcompany.com

Image Credit: fastcompany.com

Do you ever reminisce about your childhood?

Rockem-Sockem Robots, Spirograph, Lincoln Logs,

Candy cigarettes, wax lips, pixie sticks,

Banana seats on bikes, slick tires and sissy bars,

Bell bottoms, Converse, crew cuts,

Bouffants, Brill Cream, electric rollers,

Station wagons, record players, eight tracks,

No seat belts, no car seats, laying on the rear deck

to see out the back window,

Sneaking your parents smokes

And maybe their booze,

Just for fun,

Never worrying for our safety.

Do you ever reminisce about your childhood?

I do.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Son

By D. R. DiFrancesco

Son,

I still remember the day you were born,

Our first,

Blonde hair,

Blue eyes,

Colic, your tears and cries brought tears to my eyes.

Then you grew,

Grew out of the innocent helpless stage of infancy,

Standing on your own two feet,

Speaking in incoherent tones,

Trying to form words,

You knew what you were saying,

Frustrated that others didn’t.

With age came clarity,

Your words became sentences,

You thought for yourself,

Such the little man you were.

School was so difficult for you,

Younger than the rest of the class,

The agony of seeing you struggle,

Given one more year to catch up with your friends.

Sensitive,

So much abuse,

So much pain,

Kids can be so cruel,

Yet you overcame adversity and became more resilient for it.

The teen years, your talents flourished,

Maturity and confidence raised their heads,

Still a sense of humor persisted,

Highlighting that which makes you who you are,

Sensitive, caring, intelligent and funny.

Now you are a man,

A better man than your father,

Strong, confident, brave…fearless in the face of distress,

Sacrificing unselfishly for the benefit of others.

We swell with pride at the thought of what you have become,

Independent,

Letting us know that we taught you well,

Doing more in your short life than we ever dreamed was possible,

Son.