SAM

He bought a computer so slim
It travels all over with him

Wherever he is now
Typing’s his biz now —

He types when he goes for a swim

Now Sam’s not exactly a geek
No computer or Internet freak

But he’s savvy, inspired,
And Ethernet-wired

And that thing that he’s bought is so sleek

[A digression, if you’ll kindly allow:
I find myself wondering how,

How can it be —
It’s bothering me —

That Sam isn’t typing right now?]

He schooled at Kalamazoo
Where he studied in France (parlez-vous?)

Then came the day
When Sam (s’il vous plait?)

Had to decide what to do

He joined with a group of good friends
Who sought the most noble of ends

An end to all war . . .
Peace evermore . . .

Sam worked to help change the trends

Then into his life came a light
The light of life, steady and bright—

Maharishi had brought
The light Sam had sought —

And his path had now come into sight

Sam arrived here, by and by
Worked in purchasing — man, what a guy!

The wisdom he gained
And has always retained

Is the sutra, Your price is too high

But the scholarly life is what drew him
Knowledge meant everything to him

His field? education —
The core and foundation . . .

Not surprising to people who knew him

He earned his education MA
But before he could call it a day
To Harvard went he

For a doctoral degree —

And came back pretty much OK

He married a competitive skier
Who became a competitive seer

There’s something about Mary
She’s so, sort of, very . . .

Well — likeable, as you know when you see her

Soon there came Geoff, and then Ace
And the family had come into place

With Sam, as we’ve noted
A Dad quite devoted —

A father to each freckled face

They were babies, then toddlers, and then
Sam became Dad to a den

Sam become scion
To wolf, bear, and lion —

To a tangle of mini young men

Ah, cubbing — adventure galore
With Sam ever eager for more

Out camping they go
Pitch the tents, and then — whoa!

Time after time it will pour

A logical mind? Man, you said it
For years he was called Dr. Edit

Our journal’s clear guide—
What riches inside?

All scholars some day will have read it

You’ll sympathize with Sam’s hesitation
At the prospect of ad-ministration

“Faculty dean?
Is it me that you mean?” —

Who would want such a change in vocation?

But then he stepped up to the plate
He embraced this new turn in his fate

FAPC
He runs masterfully

And budgets? He hardly can wait

And Sam’s still a family man
His heart has such depth, and such span

His love, like an ocean
Finds its point of devotion —

Sam adores his VW van

He’s a leader with grace and aplomb
Who grows in the power of Raam

Organizing power
In Sam comes to flower

And for this we all laud our dear . . . Saam

He speaks, and his words go in to ya
He can, if required, sock it to ya

Kosovo came
And Sam was aflame —

He’d speak and we’d shout Hallelujah!

He’s our dear Doctor On-the-Program
His motto: I am, therefore I am

He’s up at the plate
With a swing that’s so great —

Each at-bat he will hit the Grand Sam

He’s a master of Cosmic Counterparts,
Of planets, of stars, and of charts

He explains with great skill
Destiny and free will —

He teaches to minds and to hearts

As a teacher of Maharishi Vedic Science
Sam clearly is one of the giants

Maharishi’s great pride
Is what Sam is inside —

With Brahm ever greater alliance

With books and stuff bulging his case
With his trench coat and rain hat in place

It’s Sam, our soul brother,
One meeting to another,

Perpetual peace on his face

As he wakens profound natural laws
He wins our respect and applause

But the thing that most charms us —
And completely disarms us —

Is the trademark Sam Boothby guffaws

May his year be abundant with sweets
Sweet transcending, sweet flights, and sweet treats

Sweet publications
Sweet peace for all nations

Sweetness in whomever he meets

The words that he speaks are pure truthby
The light in his face is pure youthby

He lights and he leads
He excels, he exceeds
All glory to the glorious Sam Boothby

(And be sure to supply his sweet toothby!)

October 18, 1999

A server . . . a seer

Mary’s the boss

Every gram
Honey and jam
Yes ma’am
To rakshasas he simply says Scram!
Swam