ERIC  AT  SEVEN

By  Papaw

 

Noise and clamor, touching this and that.

Watch out, or get hit by a swinging bat.

Cowboy or Indian, he’ll be either one.

Just as long as he’s got his own gun.

 

Total confidence, he can do anything.

And do it better and that with a bang.

He’s not afraid to strut his own stuff.

And if he can’t do it, then he will bluff.

 

Just put a saw in this boy’s hand.

There won’t be a tree upon the dry land.

Even Paul Bunyan could not have done better.

I’ve never seen such a constant go-getter.

 

Of attributes, I’ll mention one other.

He fancies himself as a great lover.

He’ll marry them all, from Ann to Flossy.

Except for just one, ‘cause she is too bossy.

 

But ignorance is bliss, or so someone said.

They all turn bossy, after their wed.

Don’t rush in your choice, wait for another.

Look for a girl that’s just like your mother.