All the truths we can discover,
It's been my habit for quite some time.
All these novels and rhymes,
A distraction divine,
I love every word some authors write.
But it hit me tonight,
Between the eyes just right,
As to why I have read all of these books.
It wasn't the knowing looks,
As I perused tomes on wizards or crooks,
And other assorted and strange topics.
Both of Miller's Tropics,
90s authors strung out on ironics,
And numerous works of non-fiction.
I had no idea it was not my own edification,
But for the coming education:
Yes, the learnin' of my dear little spawn.
They speak with knowing yawns,
Of adultish rights and wrongs,
But they don't have the depth to dive in.
As if there's no better time to be alive in,
I mean they missed cassette tapes and the drive-in,
And they believe every thing they think is correct.
Fortuitous preparation in full effect,
On far ranging subjects I can direct,
My little ones to the waters of truth.
And with scientific proof,
We can learn and debate, forsooth!
We develop sound arguments of reason.
So, all those pages of love and treason,
Dangerous archaeology in every season,
Have prepared me well for just now.
When my middle schooler wonders why and how,
And my high schooler is just, like, wow!
I know the library of my mind will have the answer.
10-24-19
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