To my brothers, with a salute --

The clouds now teasingly gather
The conversation has turned to weather
We sit in quiet and wonder
Why to converse is such a flounder?

Me, my charm and poise
You, that ever-so-present voice
We should fit like feet and socks
We together, should be cogs

Diapers are a thing of the past
But days and diapers trample fast
Now you a lass mollycoddled
Me, alas, simply befuddled

Here’s to the days to come
Greet the mornings with a ho-hum!