I recall when my son went to grow his first mustache.
After the manly thrill, of shaving once a week had passed.
He'd spend an hour in the bath, gelling hair so straight up it would stick.
Then he'd come down to breakfast, strutting his upper lip.
I tried not to laugh, while biting the inside of my cheek.
It looked like a Porcupine on his head, but his stache was weak.
It looked like a cross between peach fuzz and a prickly pear.
As if they drew straws, to see who, on his lip, would stick out where.
He'd stroke his lip with thumb and forefinger, to draw attention to it.
He'd turn his head this way and that, so from the light, the few hairs were lit.
Well, time has passed and his stache manned up along with his beard.
Although it will never be of Mountain Man caliber, I fear.
But he does do "scruffy" well and the girls all seem to like it.
And you know, my girl charming son, works it to his benefit.
For my oldest son Jesse.
Just something to embarrass you with.
Hey, it's my job.
My son rises each morning and easily awakes;
He runs into my room and gives me a hardy shake.
There is no sleepiness in the sound of his excited voice;
The things that he says to me make me smile; I have no choice;
“Dad, Count Dooku has light sabers of both red and green!”
Or, “The triceratops is the funniest dinosaur I’ve ever seen!”
Or, “The polecat is the same animal as the skunk.”
Or, “I wish I could take a shower under an elephant trunk.”
There was, “Dad, I think orange is the color that I now like the best.”
And, “Can we go outside today to look for a treasure chest.”
One morning he said, “You know, mealworms can really stink.”
Once it was, “Dad, I saw a tarantula, swimming in our sink.”
Sometimes he tries to whisper, but he hasn’t mastered the technique yet;
I’ve told him not to shake so hard, but often he forgets.
Some people use an alarm clock or a rooster to help them rise;
But me? I have my bubbly son to help open up my eyes.
Our love had been built on a firm foundation
Trust, compassion and fidelity as well
I thought there’d be no cause for consternation
We thrived for a time in a magical spell
He was my white knight and I remained his belle
Never a doubt, certainly no confusion
Any misgivings his blue eyes would dispel
But moving in marked the end of illusion
~~~~~~~~~ Volta ~~~~~~~~~~
His son emerged from video seclusion
This twenty-year-old had never worked a day
He found my presence to be an intrusion
He flung jabs in attempts to drive me away
Thought we had it all, but his son was the boss
Now I’m struggling to recover from this loss
*Entry for Dr. Ram's Spenserian Sonnet contest
I watched my son at his soccer game
Run away from the soccer ball;
I watched my son strike out four times
In his game of Little League baseball;
I watched my son at his football game
Sitting still on the end of the bench;
I watched my son dribble the ball off his foot
Helping the other team, the game to clench.
I watched my son at the holiday chorus
Never move his lips when the class did sing;
I watched my son at the school assembly
Not get an award for anything;
I watched my son at the science fair
Display a project that came out wrong;
I watched my son at his piano recital
Play a totally unrecognizable song.
I wake up every morning and thank the Lord
For making me such a proud Pop;
That boy of mine, wouldn’t you know,
Is a regular chip off the old man’s block.
M y Son Jared inspired me to write
Y earning to write words of beauty
I inspired by the Gift I gave him at birth returned
N ever taking much time to think, written from the heart
S someone who pushed me to be more than I was
P artners in writing collaborations, two minds to one
I nterpreting messages without thought between us
R enduring thoughts to pen
A lways there for a kind word or debate
T empting the progression of talent
I nvigorated with the pen and paper
O blivious to my surroundings when in write
N ever forgetful of the Son who prodded me to Poetry
M uses dance around him
Y eilding not to daring subject
S on I thank you for your inspiration
O n so many levels
N ever forget how much I love you
To my Son Jared........Thanks......Dad
Jesus,
Eternal Son of our days,
it is You who lights our way on our sojourn here.
Ever the Light,
Your Presence shines outward from our lives,
brightening those areas of our influence about us.
And all of this only possible because of You,
Eternal Son of our days.
You who are constantly and unwaveringly ever present with us;
Your Spirit ever desiring to empower us
with the Presence of His Companionship-
We need only acknowledge this to be full beneficiaries
of all He would give us ultimately to advance
Your Father’s Kingdom.
It's the way the world goes around
I change, you change, we change
One minute your up the next you are down
The hand I reach to grab is no longer yours
The voice speaks a different language
The gentle touch is no more
It's the way the world goes around
The hair I stroke is knotted unlike before
The cheeks i touch, rough not the same
The whole persona from surface to core
I change, you change, we change
The way you are towards our darling son
He wants his daddy to be back to normal
How can I explain what is going on
One thing will never change I am his mom
It's the way the world goes around
I won't change nor your son
We are up and you are down
Oh son of mine- Oh son of mine’
I reel and rock sit marking time
Can’t you see or are you so blind
Oh son of mine- Oh son of mine
Oh son of mine Oh son of mine
mother can only do so much
I do love you and feel your touch
Your wrong choice has made my heart crush
Oh son of mine- Oh son of mine
You are pulling at my heart
Strongholds are keeping us apart
Choices you’re making are not smart
Oh son of mine- Oh son of mine
I don’t know what else I should do
My prayers are with you all year through
I will stand in the gap for you
Oh Son of mine Oh son of mine
This is certainly no facade
Road you chose I refuse to trod
I must now release you to God
* For this child I prayed, and the Lord hath given me my petition
which I asked of him: Therefore also I have lent him to the Lord; as long as he liveth, he
shall be lent to the Lord...I Samuel 1: 27-28
A close connection to each other
Valued time is spent each day,
A young boy and his father
Its ment to be this way.
What will happen to this
When the mother decides to go,
The child is taken away now
New where abouts he dont know.
A father's heart is now shattered
For what is there left to do,
Without his precious son there
His life is meaningless and blue.
Wanting only to be the best ever
He sits in a cell thinking what he had,
Missing his son and new memories
His son is missing more....his dad.
Even the miles between them
Can't take what is in the heart,
Knowing they will soon reunite
Will help them while their apart.
The youngster ran happily down the old dirt road,
With all his worldly possessions, three magical rocks and a lively old toad.
He stopped at the old creek as was his daily routine,
Looking for that evasive four leaf clover in this field so green.
Well to his dismay his search was in vain,
Cause thunderclouds built up and it began to rain.
Hurriedly he ran to an old abandoned barn just up ahead,
At one time you could tell this old barn had been red.
He opened the old squeaky door and inside he did go,
Inside he found discarded treasures, rusty old horseshoes were the best don’t you know?
And broken old tools which he knew he could use,
Too, too much for such a young boy to choose.
His pockets were stuffed as he made his way back home to his house.
His momma met him at the door and said in those bulging pockets son you best not have
brought me a mouse.
Gosh no he said as he showed off his booty,
Now go wash up for supper son as she hugged her little cutie.