This poem describes that strange phenomenon, when a father walks through the door, in a house of young kids, with mom at home.  This may seem a little traditional, or out-of-date, but there is something soothing about a deep voice, with a sense of command. Something, that makes us trust that all will be well. Sometimes that’s all it takes–whether in the family, or the ship of state– to right the ship. Of course, that doesn’t mean that the woman whose spotlight he is stealing feels good about it! Enjoy!
Sometimes it takes
A father’s voice
A father’s touch
A father, poised
To right the wrongs
And still the noise
That guides our angry greed.
Sometimes it takes
A father’s voice
A gravely grunt
To stop the boys
And freeze them in their tracks.
A father’s voice
Will make them heed.
A mother runs
Her mouth all day
She shouts, cajoles and
Hugs away
The scrapes and scratches
From the fray
And fracas, tired as sin,
And He glides in
His ship, His prow,
With thunder, roiling
On His brow,
Poor Mother’s toil
Means nothing now.
For all they see is Him:
Behold!
A father’s grin.
Copyright 2020 Andrea LeDew
For a poem about losing ones father, read First. For more about my family, read Our Stems Are Fragile.Â
Daddy’s home, hurray!!