Man of Dreams

He is angry now, twenty years later,

for what he had only been sad,

But a man knows things

of which a child only dreams

and so the weight is greater

for the man than the lad.

The blows and belts left scars and welts

on fresh, plump skin, and the roar

defies any cries from bleeding lips.

As night begins, the child grins and sips

his tea while the ice above his eye melts.

And he dreams a familiar dream:

Of a man with a smiling face,

With children running to greet him home.

A gentle man, with arms that are wide

Where children can hide

Beneath a beard and dark eyes;

With the welcome and embrace

of a strong manly grace.