Dean's Poems

MY 66 YEAR HISTORY
By Dean Beaty 1/2/09

I often write of others who grace our family tree.
Of course I always do it with tact and dignity.
Sometimes within my poems I take some liberty.
But seldom do I ever think to speak of me.

There are so many stories. You’ve heard them all before.
Like when I shot my foot with a magnum forty-four.
Or when I lost my memory and got called in by the cops.
Or going against the rules, wearing socks with my flip flops.

If I include my brothers and what they did to “moi”. (French= me)
Like Don all by himself almost killed your dear papaw.
He pushed me in the Ohio and stabbed me with a knife.
While David’s missed the tree and almost took my life. (twice)

My dad would tell the story of being lost in the Black Hills.
How I shot three geese at once; and other hunting skills. (2 hens)
Then there was Bob Jones, who took my skills all wrong.
They almost kicked me out when I wrote our senior song.

Time will not allow me to complete my history.
But grandsons prove the adage of apple from the tree.
Always keep your distance when a sibling has a knife.
The greatest thing by far was taking Gladys for my first wife.

Brought to you by
The Peacemaker