Dear friends of the blogging world.
It seems that most of Monica's instructions
have escaped me. Although she is a good teacher - she has had little training, or practice with the generation of "fleeting thoughts."
         I dare not dwell on the fact that I am
having trouble acknowledging your comments....since I am having trouble locating the entire contents of my own blog. If and when Monica musters the
courage to give it another shot... I will
do better..
         For now, I say - thank you for stopping by, and please know that I am enjoying your greetings.        

    
                   My Son Joe

Once a lady said to me,
With such a pleasant smile,
"I've no children, for I know,
They'd really cramp my style."
Style - perhaps - but only that,
I'm sure she couldn't know,
What it's like to have a son --
Grown up - and that's my Joe.

He once brought in homeless cats,
Also............a mangy put,
It seems he did so many things,
-- I did -- when growing up.
He has come home with the dawn,
I've had some sleepless nights,
He has bent the fenders and,
He's had a couple fights,
He has left the bathtub black,
And clothes piled on the floor.
He has left his room a mess -
I could have told her more....

About the joy..for when a boy,
Is grown - how nice to know,
The boy has changed, a man remains
A  son.......and that's my Joe.

God bless you  ---  Mary  Patty