Henry McHenry

Henry McHenry lived in a tree

And for he,

It was the only,

Well, the only place to be.

Each day he would listen,

To his thoughts with intent

Devising a way,

To be less, discontent

Not that he did not,

Enjoy all he’d acquired

He looked everyday,

And everyday he admired.

His achievements were grand,

From intentions to inventions

With gadgets and gizmos,

Beyond all convention

Made from odd things,

Only the bold could acquire

Wrestled from wreckage,

And things less desired

Items no one wanted

Discarded and rotten

Broken and battered

And sometimes forgotten

Items of inspiration

Others considered worthless

Though Henry’s discontentment

Valued them as priceless

So Henry’s irritation

Was meant to teach a lesson

For Henry, discontentment

Really was a blessing

It moved him to be different

Caused him to achieve

Reminded him to dream

What no one would believe

Henry McHenry lived in a tree

And for he

It was the perfect

The perfect place to be!

This is a repost ...just because I love this poem, and more important....MY SON...whom inspires me!