TO MY UNCLE TED, UPON HIS RECOVERY

Ted, my uncle dear,
Here, as you lie in bed,
Perhaps impatient of the day
Which returns you to the fray,
Denied your natural sports
And so a little out of sorts
(And those I always find
Lead a wandering mind
To thinking oddish thoughts)
Here, just for you
Is a rhyme or two –
To brighten up I hope
Part of your passing day,
Imperfect tags a modest joke
To keep dull thoughts at bay;
And if rhyming is a passion
Largely out of fashion
We, fellow makers
Take us to the discipline
And so create a supple line
Pluming thoughts with words,
Flyting up our birds,
Don’t we? But here,
(To begin where I began –
The words too loosely flew, or ran)
My dear old uncle,
Is a kind of letter
Upon your getting better,
To welcome your returning power
(Not, I know, the matter of an hour)
For I’m told your horizontal talking
Has now translated into walking;
So two key faculties restored
Must help prevent your being bored,
And by your daughter tended
By your daughter splendid
(Something I’d’ve recommended)
All your goodly fare
Comes without a care
And the washing up is done
While you stroll in the winter sun;
Or so I hope, knowing though
This picture quite aglow
Might not be all the show.
Tempted to reflect I am, however
That the gift is given to the giver,
All the love and care you have spent
Now at last upon you intent
A father kind (always kind
If now and then a little grumpy
No lasting love
Not sometimes lumpy)
So generous a host
(Ted and Jane, Jane and Teddy,
Names tied as always ready
To make a party something heady)
So warm and sure a friend –
These the things that most
Matter to us in the end;
And because no flesh and blood
Ever has withstood
A multitude of years
(A source of mortal fears)
Our old hearts must sometime fail:
But that good heart
Which in your soul presides
Not in you so frail
But indeed an ever living part
The kindness I have known
By which I’ve flourished and grown
Resides in me, can fail never,
My uncle now, my uncle ever.