Some say that Heinlein's immature
Homophobic, sexist, quite the boor
But none the less my childhood dreams
Were bursting Heinlein at the seams.
I dreamt of spaceships, tall and proud;
of travelling beyond the clouds;
a wonderous library in my palm:
no tortured logic, no untrue psalm.
Sitting watching stars above
and living time enough for love.
Such dreams to hold awhile but then
I woke and was a child again.
