Ben's Advice
A Ponderosa poem
by Freya-Kendra
It was a dream, a silly thing,
the kind that makes you shake your head
and think about the things you ate
or drank before you went to bed.
I found myself conversing with
a character from long ago,
another time, another place –
a Technicolor TV show.
His name was Ben, a gentle man
with sons who made him beam with pride.
Alas, he also felt alone;
A widower, he'd lost his bride.
In fact not one, but three he'd loved.
Three women, three disparate lives,
had turned his head and found his heart;
three headstrong, independent wives,
had graced his life, helped build his dreams
and given him his three, fine boys,
each son unique, a special breed.
They filled his broken heart with joy.
Adam, so like Lancelot,
Ben's first-born was a gallant man.
Honor and nobility
were always under his command.
Eric next, the one called Hoss,
would wrestle bears to save his kin.
He cherished every scrap of life,
and never had a thought for sin.
And then along came Little Joe,
a vibrant lad, so quick of heart,
his temperament was fierce and strong,
and love, for him, a special art.
Yes, Ben was blessed, despite his loss;
his room, his bed, were his alone,
and yet his heart and hearth were full
with loving sons, with sense of home.
I gave this gentle Ben a smile,
and he gave me some wise advice.
He told me cherish what I have,
'though blessings sometimes have a price,
they also help to fill the voids
that hardships often leave behind;
we must not let the voids fill us—
be brave, be bold, be true, be kind.
I woke refreshed and strong of heart,
the Ponderosa in my grasp,
for Ben had shown me how to see
the light beyond a darkened path.