Boston Kites and Memories
We loved when dad would call
For some paper, string and sticks.
He'd ask for flour in a cup
And show us other "tricks."
He'd take a simple grocery sack
And lay it on the floor,
Then mark a border 'round it,
Notch the sticks and more.
He'd mix the flour and water
To make a basic glue,
They lay the sticks across
And tie them taut and true.
The paper next, he would affix
And the "Boston" flare took shape.
It was not like all other kites
With it's rustic, six-point drape.
We watched with eager eyes
As our kite was finally formed.
We got the string and tail attached,
And a dream for flight was born.
Then out we'd go, to let'm soar
Embracing times together.
While short the flight of Boston Kites,
The memories are forever.
Copyright © Tom Valles | Year Posted 2023
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