February 8, 2016 - A poem to my only brother Richard Charles Augustine Smith - "Rick" - on his day - created 1995
Catch the meter and let it flow along quickly or it's too long and no fun:
The Saga of Rick-Pa-Tick
The newscast promised terrorism, as we planned to end our schism,
air flight bringing Rick-pa-tick to brighten February!
So, I, tonight instead of sleep, With snowfall lovely, cold and deep,
write of him upon a whim - the concept's much less scary!
The odds, you see, still favor me: His plane will not be hijacked
Besides, I think the badguy would be more than likely ransacked.
If Rick -pa-tick is on the plane, The badguys better run!
My Brother was a Red Beret, he'd " take 'em out" for fun!
In fact, he'd make a super spy, Though tall, his looks are affable;
At midlife, showed them off for cash, la! la! - so photographable!
This visit, soon, would be the first, since his move out West
I dreamed and planned as best I could to make it 'just the BEST' !
Since I was only two years old, when brother Rick-pa-tick was born,
First memories are hazy ones, how are such nicknames worn?
Still, as a babe, he still was born the classic-type Aquarius,
Whose sneeze became high fevers till the whole house was precarious.
His soul was kind and loving, and I liked his friendship bright.
"BigSis" a favorite role for me: to help would bring delight!
Somehow, we never seemed to grouse or fight with one another,
but shared the grand adventure life delivered, with no bother.
Hmmmmm.......I am sorry, readers, dears - that's not EXACTLY true:
There was that time we'd thrash and yell 'til hoarse and black-and -blue!
For that, our parents, horrified, soon offered boxing gloves
To keep the fighting fighting and the loving, loves.
It worked like magic, on the spot, but not the way they thought:
Boxing gloves for at-home use left Rick and I distraught
We blushed and shuffled, full of shame for our bad behavior
That day, the local sports supply served as the family Savior!
And once, at cowboy game, Wild West the game we'd play.
Rick and Bill and Tommy playing "shoot'em up" that day
The awful accident occurred and "School Marm", ME, was slugged
Or the time that it was HE who certainly was mugged:
My 3" heels were by my bed, from which I would not wake -
"If you do not go away, your neck I'll surely break",
But my Brother, Rick-pa-tick, giggling, still would pester -
That 3" heel made quite a dent, but no, it did not fester.
But that was later
In his early childhood days, he gave the telling signs
And grew up true to destiny, ferocious, yet benign
All boys must be ferocious, or risk unhappy fate!
But February-ians are humantarians! Conflict to create!
His tastes were thought a bit outre, in re: the culinary -
Though "the white meat tale" is one he might prefer to bury.
A natural "vegan" long before the term itself was used,
His dietary prefs were such that left us all confused.
When two hours after dinner things were washed and put away
Our Rick-Pa-Tick was struggling - a thing just would not stay
When Mother checked her Rick, age four, the sight brought on her frown:
The meat, gone white from gnawing, in his mouth, not taken down.
Another day, mid-morning, "Oh! Rick's whereabouts!"
No search-success, then true distress, and full of anxious doubts.
When, from the kitchen cupboards came distinctly, sounds of crunching.
And Mother found him seated in the cupboard - dogfood-munching!
Milk Bone biscuits looked to him a perfect midday snack,
His teeth, today, are white for it, tho' Mother's jaw went slack!
Another day, 'twas I, at six, at play at "Mommy prep",
And with my friends we'd play "pretends" and do a dainty step.
If we were good, my best friend's Mom would treat us, in those days,
to real china dolly plates to practice teatime ways!
But blue-paint shiny tinny ones for mudpies served with pride,
Would make the day a sunny one, a party held outside!
"Come and have some mudpies, please! Look! They have red berries!"
And tea to drink as well, and so our party will be merry!"
And Rick-pa-tick, of course would be our guest our social "practice case",
And try the tea and mudpies, with a smile upon his face!
My friend and I thought "guys are cool" to be so dumb gallante!
To munch with glee, at offerings, that no one else would want!
All too soon, our Mother's call would mark the party's end,
But happily, since morning would begin it all again.
"Let's wash up for dinner, now, twin clown jammies neat!
And Father's singing, home from work, our table is complete."
But that was not the truth of it, with one more chair to fill,
A brand-new baby sister soon arrived, to fill the bill!
With sister AND a brother now, I had "the whole shebang"!
Three makes a corporation, and so the household sang !
And truly so, since now Tide Mill Equipment Service shone
Our brand new family enterprise; the house, next door, our own.
The real estate, our Mother's, first, then parents' starter place,
No longer Rented out, but ours again, a grace.
We missed our friends on Redding Road, but made adjustments well
Work and school and new old friends gave happy tales tales to tell
And with Southport Harbor just a block away
This relocation not so bad - a dawn of brand new day!
"Rick, take your Father's lessons, and soon you'll be a man
For now, Scouts, Sports and mischiefing aplenty wis the plan."
Snowball fights, and front-porch fun with soap and hose for scrubbing
And comic antics imitating Dick Van Dyke , with dubbing!
HE may have been a "Banjo-eyes" and wiry, fragile boy,
Losing "Rassling" contests his brains not brawn the ploy
But His growth at teenage growth-spurt time is on the public record -
He used to trash his sandwiches, now gulped them double-deckered !
And not for fat. New height and power seemed to be his path !
His "Clark-Kent-into-Superman" gave all a joyful laugh !
At breakfast WE were banjo-eyed, when Rick's morning "needies"
Involved the 3-quart mixing bowls with most of all the Wheaties...
..."The Cheerios , the Lucky Charms, Shredded Wheat and Raisin Bran
And Mother eyes and mine agog, our Rick-pa-tick a Man !
Shall we call you Richard, now? or would you rather , Rich ?
He, Shuffling now , like Dick Van Dyke, resisting awkward itch !
We suffered such anxiety in his fragile days !
So now we asked his autograph, and sang "hip, hip, hoorays!"
Though war was looking for him, he golfed, ran, swam, ski-ed, fenced!
When grumpy teachers tried to tease, he no longer tense.
He just walked out the door on them and did his Army duty.
Again our household open-mouthed! Green/Red Beret a beauty!
Studied elsewhere, all these years and counsels what he learned.
Stay fit, eat smart, and share your heart, and life won't leave you burned !
This poem has just been updated by his big sis, Ellie
To celebrate his natal day - and skip the boring telly.
May you find the love and fun intended as I write
For history, this all-true tale, and so, my friends, goodnight!
