SKOAL!

It's "The Children's Hour," as Franklin Delano

dubbed it, proffering that famous profile, chin high,

cigarette holder clinched in good dental symmetry,

all the while flashing that celebrated smile.  He'd "Walk

a Mile for a Camel," (or the Secret Service would)

while steering us through war, the Great Depression,

and a desert of dry times, not to mention wines,

until he repealed Prohibition, restored civility

and White House Happy Hour to the post meridian. 

Scotch or Brandy, his choice; mine, Chardonnay

from Argentina, gaucho land of Peron and his Eva who

demonstrated beauty and brains can survive

in the same body: soul sister to Jayne Mansfield,

hiding her IQ beneath a double-D cup.  So, Bottoms up,

children, let the games begin!  What'll you have? 

Scotch on the Rocks, whiskey or gin?  A martini with

two olives, one for you and one for your baby?

Or several of those sweet ones that deck you,

wreck you--three strikes and you're out under

apple, cranberry, or lemon-lime lightning? 

Come sip with me for cocktails and a concerto

in my backyard, where afternoon wind wields a baton

for sopranos in the pines, the marsh-myrtle's alto,

and the fig's bellowing bass, empurpled and powerful. 

He wouldn't have it any other way: I'm THAT deep,

he rails, wind's in my sails, and you, chattering

children should be practicing your scales.