My Little Brother
(A 9 year old Sister lament)
My little brother is a total mess.
He is never still even at his best.
Into my things and into my hair
He drives me to total despair.
This morning before I could dress,
He hid my clothes among his mess.
He stole my slipper and pulled my hair
My Little Brother is too much to bear.
At recess one day in a game of dare,
A bully pushed me and pulled my hair.
Out of nowhere my brother appeared,
Chased the bully and showed he cared.
Now my heart is pounding and I am glad.
My Little Brother is no reason to be sad.
I can stand his kicking and pinching.
He is handy when I need him I’m thinking.
Robert Hewett Sr. was born in 1933 on a Texas cotton farm. He moved to Oklahoma City at Age 14 and entered the U. S Army from there in 1953. Robert has been writing poetry and short stories for his family and himself since his teen years, but is just now publishing his collection of works. His hobbies include writing poetry and stories; clock and watch collections; gardening and growing flowers and shrubs from cuttings. Most of his poetry tells a story, a gift from his father who was a master story teller. He has received numerous awards for his work in his professional life and for his writing. You can find some of his writings at "roberthewettsr.hubpages.com"