Geronimo

GERONIMO

We'd climb atop the bunk bed

To the farthest cozy corner

And snuggle little bodies

Into the giant frame of father

Where stories flowed like raindrops

From his head into our hearts

Of the little boy he once knew

Of adventures and lost arts

Sometimes we'd hang suspended

Like an aimless flake of snow

We couldn't hear the ending yet

(Even daddy didn't know)

He wove his tales of wonder

We hung on every word

The little boy our envy

Our dad our royal lord

                                 -JoMae

In the 1940s, during the war, the 'little boy' and his friends would sail from the garage roof with an umbrella yelling GERONIMO.   How often I stood just outside the door and out of sight eavesdropping.  The kids were enthralled by John's 'little boy' stories and I loved every minute of that frequent bedtime ritual.  

Geronimo (exclamation) - Wikipedia