![]() BoyhoodA Poem by Tate Morgan![]() Passing for gold in a little boy's heart, are the looks his father pays.![]() ![]() Beside patches of green grass meadow golden wheat fields wave in the breeze Beckoning out to all my fellows come walk through me with ease
Upon just such a lazy day I once casually sauntered by Hearing the call of nature's beauty thought that God had spoke just to I
With the sound of a lonesome whistle down the river the steamers rolled To this the backdrop behind the field the childhood longing is all told
Across the field dressed all in black a boy and his team worked the ground I stood to watch an hour or so not moving or making a sound
A smile as wide as the river shown across the boys bright face Perhaps this was the very first time he had taken his father's place
In him I could see a purpose a reward for his tiny soul I could tell by the way he worked nothing would lure him of his goal
Long it is since I felt like that as a boy just going on ten Doing twice what was asked of me to be noticed by him again
Passing for gold in a boy's heart are all the looks his father pays collecting what he can in life to spend long into older days
In him I saw both rhyme and reason as we all live and pass away A boy working so hard to grow up while we men all wish we could play
© 2021 Tate MorganAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthor![]() Tate MorganMarion , OHAboutAvailable from Amazon XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX I am a product of the Midwest. Raised on the plain states of North America. I was nurtured on a .. more..Writing
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