I will tell you this, from me to you,
To raise good children all that you need do,
Is be good parents, be shining bright,
The spark of their dreams; the light of their lives.
*
While they are young and when everything’s new,
Be their best friend and they also with you,
For childhood is fleeting, and before very long,
They will have departed the nest, and left you alone,
*
So pull up a blanket, lay thunder the stars,
And dream both together of pipes, cloaks and cars.
Conkers is a pastime,
That we remember every year,
When September comes we search about,
To find these gems so rare.
*
When we’ve collected bagfuls,
Enough for you and me,
We rush them home to sort and grade,
Into classes one to three.
*
The first are left to use right now,
And try our luck at play,
The second, to treat, to cure and bake,
Into champions, I do say.
*
The third are left for a whole year long,
Stuck up the chimney flu,
Until their day of glory comes,
I’ll make do with grades one and two.
The Crazymad Writer 