We come early to get just the right place
And we wait as people file in around our space.
All the time praying the rain will not come,
Because Dad left the umbrella at home.
Miniature American flags were given away,
But the little boy didn't have anything to say,
He just took the flag and waved it around,
As he took in the new sights and sounds.
There will be many more parades for a boy,
But may the parades of his life be full of joy,
And as a child marches on to become a man,
May his steps all fit with God's perfect plan.
By Alan T. Stokes
July 4, 2007
This poem was written after Jonathan Stokes went to his first parade. The parade was held in Lansing at the Capital of the State of Michigan.
No comments:
Post a Comment