Poetry by six year old Gordon J MacRae

scot beer

Father Gordon J MacRae, troublemaker that he is, since he was a six year old, composed and broadcast this poem out loud, before God and everyone:

Isn’t it nice that we have faces
They contain my favorite places
Eyes to see
Ears to hear
Nose to smell and
Mouth for beer

Wow. At six years old! I love it.

It’s reminiscent of SCOTUS Justice Brett Michael Kavanaugh’s love for beer. ;-)

BTW, there’s no yearbook for six year olds, nor any Senate Committee by which he might defend his reputation against, say, Voice of the “Faithful.”

9 Comments

Filed under Priesthood, Vocations

9 responses to “Poetry by six year old Gordon J MacRae

  1. pelerin

    Love it!

  2. Gina Nakagawa

    Poet Laureate material!

  3. Joisy Goil

    I love it! I’ve been thinking about my paternal grandpa today and then I read Fr. Gordon’s poem and your comments. When I was 8 years old my grandpa sat me down and handed me a cordial glass with a fews drops of Anisette. He told me to drink it slowly like a lady. I did and made a face. Then he gave me his beer glass with a few drops in the bottom. “Taste that,” he said. I did. Then he said, “now if anyone tries to tell you drinking is a big deal, you know better.”

    When all my friends were running to NYC to drink at 18, I found better things to do. It just wasn’t a big deal to me. God bless you, Grandpa.

  4. Joisy Goil

    But I do like beer too.

  5. How Perfect! 😂
    I “liked Beer”way To Much for a few yrs…

  6. Jim Preisendorfer

    Fr. Gordon,

    One of my four adult sons when he was around six years old was out to lunch with his grandparents and the waitress asked him want he wanted. He replied, “A hamburger and a beer.” I think that may beat your poem! Peace be with you my good friend.

  7. Charlene

    This is a poem written by my godson, Pornchai Maximilian Moontri, just after his conversion in 2010. He calls if the “Tap,tap poem.”

    “MY ROOMMATE IS A RABID WRITER.”

    My roommate is a rabid writer.
    Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
    He types until my mind winds tighter.
    Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
    He’s never had an unwritten thought.
    Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
    He types and types til my nerves are nought.
    Tap, tap. Tap, tap, Tap, tap, tap.

    My roommate’s also a real good friend,
    Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
    And stays that way til the bitter end.
    Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
    And we all like the result, you see,
    Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.
    And sometimes all this typing’s ’bout me!
    TAP, tap. Tap, TAP, tap. Tap, TAP?”

  8. sanfelipe007

    Ha Ha! That’s great, Charlene.

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