From hence forth let it be decreed
Sleepovers don’t exist!
A term that implies a few z’s
Is more a slumber myth.
For anyone with teens will know
That when they meet to sleep-
Over is more so an excuse
To party long and deep
Deep to the early hours and more
Til sun rise the next day
When they’ll return to their own homes
Where then they’ll hit the hay
And so the word’s redundant
Therefore may I suggest
That sleepovers drop the word sleep
As there’s no sleep or rest!
He used to run right down the street
A giggling as he went
A light-hearted and cheery boy
Without a care, intent
On having fun, on growing up
On simply being he
But then he mastered older years
The walk of puberty
His friends arrived; they’d nodded to
Each other, said few words
Then walked in quiet and passive file
Towards bus stop I’ve heard
They’d grown by now to near six foot
Where had my baby gone
A boy so tall and serious
Was this life going wrong?
Or was this how it’s meant to be
In teen years; testing time
To leave the laughs of childish play
And reckon, reason, rhyme
To move into the adult world
Where none dare mess about
Or at least that’s what I think they think
Where none dare jest and shout
For in his adolescence he’s
Become so very stern
With weight of world upon his back
As lessons still are learned
But then the odd thing glimmers through
Of lad with boyish charms
That lives to love and loves to live
So really there’s no harm
And thus when looking at him go
A walking down the road
A smile creeps in to think what he
Considers; how he goads
With adulthood, with growing up
With how he’s “meant” to be
And I smile to think how he’ll behave
When he is forty three!
Teenagers (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
They said the teens would sometimes be
A trial; a testing time
A time when doors were slammed in face
And moods would rock not rhyme
They said that attitudes would be
Perplexing at the least
That from such sweet and charming child
Would rise pubescent beast
They mentioned that all speech would be
Replaced with teenage grunt
That hormones would then wax less wane
And surge unchecked rampant
They said to batten down the hatch
To put an armour on
Against the throws of teenage might
When thy will not be done!
But therein lies the issue
For in the teenage years
The will becomes a sticky thing
A battle of ideas
As young minds learn to realize
What makes them think and tick
Their values; not those of their folks
No longer ruled by sticks
A time where pure autonomy
Becomes the thing that they
Harbinger after and crave for
Save each and every day
A time when they take up the wheel
To find a pathway clear
Where wise parents help read the map
But let their teen then steer
Where cars still have dual brake systems
Yet just one set of gears
And plans and dreams stretch out ahead
Reigns loosened year on year
So when they say the teens will be
A trial; a testing time
Take heart for it is not always
And can be just sublime!
Teens sharing earphones, listening music outdoor. Summer time. This image is taken from SCA’s international report Hygiene Matters 2010. For more info, please visit http://www.hygienematters.com . (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Whatever can I do with them
They’re right out of control
I’ve tried to rant and tried to rave
I’ve tried to rock and roll
My character and even gone
Right down the silent line
But nothing seems to help them cope
And nothing’s ever fine.
They really are quiet difficult
Throughout these teenage years
What can I do? How can I help?
Perhaps they’ll turn to peers
And seek a little comfort from
Their baffling attitude
Oh the trials of adolescence –
Help me lift my parents’ mood
To My Children:
You know I’ve always tried so hard
To do my best for you
I’d give my all if that would help
Make sacrifices too
I’d not stop at any boundary
Nor falter to go on
If you needed me I’d be there
I’d stay and not be gone
And yet now that you are older
My best is not so much
The need for me to hold on still
But let go of my clutch
For the best now I can help with
Is access on those days
You need a shoulder or a hand
Or light to guide your way
So that then so ultimately
It’s simply down to you
To take the best of all you’ve had
And to yourself be true
There is a breed who just don’t wake
In thunder storms or in earth quakes
Or in the rush of daily life
Whether under pressure or in great strife
Sleeping soundly through all loud alarms
Snoozing heavily, remaining calm
They dose throughout the morning rush
And slumber sound preferring hush
They snore their way through morning air
Before midday they do not care
Their beds are buddies to embrace
They’re duvet bound; there is no race
The cockerel they just don’t hear
It’s wondered if they’d sleep all year
And calls from parents go ignored
Whilst met with still the deepest snore
But hear the call of friend on phone
Or inbox come into the zone
With status update checking in
From Facebook or a twit tweeting
And suddenly they’re button bright
Up from their beds they do alight
And off they go upon their way
For teenage morning’s start at midday!
Ginz&Tonic 