Skipping Stones

Please all gather round and listen,
For I have a cherished tale to tell.
Of memories young and innocent,
And a loved older brother as well.

Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer,
We'd call ourselves when together.
Two young dreamers free as birds,
Both adventurous birds of a feather.

On an early sunny June morning,
We  journeyed to a special place.
A river smooth as mill pond silk,
As dragonflies danced with grace.

The sun was shining down on us,
As we dived in for a cooling swim.
For hours we played in it's water,
Then the real magic was to begin.

I'll show how to skip a stone,
My smiling brother said to me.
Picked up a stone flat and smooth,
Flicked his wrist and set it free.

It hit the water then disappeared,
Then surfaced and began to skip.
Magically again, again and again,
Then eventually taking its final dip.

I was just completely awestruck,
At what I had just dazzlingly seen.
I will teach how my brother winked,
Dizzy at the spectacle that had been.

You'll need a flat smooth stone,
Placed between forefinger and thumb.
Flick your wrist and follow through,
While with the water keeping it plumb.

Eagerly I then found my skip stone,
The excitement building within me.
Then threw it with all my might,
Thinking it would travel out to sea.

I was so tragically disappointed,
It simply vanished with a loud plop.
My second attempt was much better,
Eight joyful steps and then did stop.

The secret's in timing it just right,
Bend your knees and throw it low,
Arm back then power in that flick,
Try doing that before letting it go. ​​​​​​

My brother was on the money,
His good advice plain and clear.
I was rewarded with twenty steps,
And a memory to forever revere.

Now we've become slightly older,
With small grandkids of our own.
Adventurous boys and girls alike,
Who smile when skipping a stone.

Dedicated to Greg Etsell a good man with a good heart.
The best.