This ode epitomises my dad - some might think ME,TOO. Occurred early '70's dad being in his mid 50's US,TEENS

SPEAK TO THOSE BOYS

    

                                                               My father, he,

Quite quiet would be,

Preferred, behind the scene,

Though, on good day,

Wise words would say,

Knew well, what he did mean.

He also knew

Just what to do,

When tempers would arise,

And oft would say,

Without delay,

Some words that would surprise.

One such instance,

Was heard by chance,

When younger us boys were,

And as boys will,

A-bickering, still,

'Twas more than mum could bear.

She...... had....... enough,

Of all the stuff

Her darlings said and did,

She got quite mad,

Then spoke to dad,

The bickering, to rid.

“Can you not see,

My dear Bobby,”

To dad, she did complain,

 (Her power deploys,)

“SPEAK TO THOSE BOYS,

So peace again will reign."

Without a fuss,

He looked at us,

With face quite stern and cold,

Their prides and joys,

Said “Hello boys”

He’d done as he was told.

We HAD to stop,

Mums jaw did drop,

And bursts of laughter flew,

We’d quietened down

Without the frown,

Dad knew the thing to do.