All mom’s make mistakes, mother wasn’t exempt,
She was talented artist in exile almost,
Oklahoma just hinterland, far from art’s coast,
Still, she needed strokes too, sometimes looked to her child,
But she could not foresee, my response would be wild!
Disappointed me? Yes! Never held in contempt!
A sizeable box held ERECTOR SET’s parts,
It had book full of pictures of what child might build,
Even Merry-Go-Round for a child that’s more skilled!
There was motor with gears you could shift fast or slow,
Need to plug in for power a limit: “Hello! ? “
Still, I see plainly now gift was pointing to arts.
As time allowed me, I constructed most all
Of the ideas suggested, though some were quite tough,
Though I trusted book’s pictures, completion’s not fluff!
For though pictures save words, there’s still much left unsaid,
And without some real thinking, a project is dead!
Even as my pride grew, I was destined to fall.
In all innocence, I came home from grade school
To THE Wright Brother’s airplane that sat on my bed?
But my mom had NO PICTURES! I cried, my eyes red,
At the GENIUS revealed here! I could not compete,
And I felt doomed forever, a child at her feet!
Thus I learned, expectations prove Pride is a fool!
Brian Johnston
November 4,2017
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