Rhyme & Reason - a reason to rhyme

 " If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father who is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?" An infant has no worries,  Concerns, anguish or fear, On parents, they will fully trust Through each infantile year. If parents throw them in the air, The child KNOWS, they'll be caught, That trust is something quite innate, Nothing, that was taught. We hear them laugh and giggle, They're having so much fun, In their wee minds they never will Be harmed, by anyone.  They fear not, that each mealtime, A meal, 'twill be prepared By someone who is capable, And with them, will be shared. We're called to be like children, By Father God, above, In providence by Him, to trust, He'll shower us, with love. He knows each individual, Their needs, - already met, Trusting Heavenly Father, he's Just not informed us, yet.

My mother, with no daughters Could not, with them, “do shop” So had t’rely on store staff, When clothing needed bought. One Christmas, when still single, In early 20’s me, Was wondering what to buy her, Then clothing, I did see. Knew roughly she was MY size, And style of dress she’d choose, Espied a turquoise ‘A’ line flair, With flowing skirt, so loose. I took it to the change room To see if it would fit , (From change room I did NOT exit, Not into ‘that’ - admit) A dress, with matching jacket, I bought, and checked with staff If I could later change it, If I had made a gaff. When Christmas Day  arrived then, And mum her gifts, opened, She knew this gift was ‘clothing’ To store, would she, it, send? I saw her apprehension Urged her ‘’see does it fit” Delight on face, emerging From washroom wearing it. She found it unbelievable, She pondered it a while, Her SON , could choose such clothing? It was her size; and style.

                                 At Stirling Castle, Scotland,                                      Where tourist flock 'en masse',                                     Dates from earl’ Twelfth Century,                                             It has a touch of class.                                       It sits close to Loch Lomond,                                          Now owned by th’M.O.D.                                       People flock from miles afar                                              To view this history.                                           I visited with parents,                                        When I was a mere teen,                                       So mum and dad in fifties,                                        They too had never been.                                    At one o’clock, a cannon fires                                    A thund’rous mighty ‘BOOM’                                Just prior to this my dear ma-ma      

     Mum must have had some insight, T'my eventual career choice, 'Twas me she did encourage To 'help' around the house.      The youngest of six siblings New-born - fifteen years And only male folk survived Sure there were many tears.        No Tumble Dryers back then, My mother had the knack, The old fashioned hand wringer With shirts ironed, front and back.         Whene'er she  did the ironing, In our home, seven males  Quite a lot of shirts there, She ironed, top to tails.       Then they were all a-folded As when they were just bought, No draping on a hanger, I followed,  as was taught.       Whene'er she was exhausted, Her tired old legs to rest, "Colin, can you take over? " I always did my best.       She never asked the others, Perhaps I'd voluteered At one time, when was younger, Or p'haps, how I was reared.       To help whene'er 'twas needed  To do what needed done, Or MAYBE,  all the others Were outside having fun.       So

Kevin was a client  With whom I was so blessed A young man in his 50's His caring, I caressed. He'd had a traffic accident, Paraplegia, made him weak  No longer could he verbalise, His 'blinking' eyes, did speak. He trusted me entirely Knew everything I'd say, His face lit up each morning When I came by his way. Didn't trust the female carers To stand him on his feet But with me holding on t'him Would stand tall, eyes did meet. They had to use the 'Hoyer" He did not like that hoist, Though 'cause he was so nervous On him they had no choice. There was one super female That's Alison, by name When I had planned vacation On Kevin, her, did train. Explained what we were doing And gave the reason why, Then after I had shown her, On Kevin, she, did try. I think, because I'd told him, He seemed okay with she, Though secretly, deep down inside, He wished it would be me. The day I did return though, From his bed, me did see, Blinked once, twice, t