The first poem I wrote two years ago. My fiancee, Thomas Lanchanger had posted it for me on his site here at AD. I am now reposting it to go along with the poem that I wrote for my son today.
June 15, 2004
The day you were born, My First Child, Oh what Heavenly Bliss!
A Beautiful Son, Life canít get any better than this
Today, my son you are sixteen years old.
A very trying time, so I am told.
Driving, Oh I see you as you take the car.
Letting go, but hoping that you donít go far.
I see a fine young man, displaying good looks,
Intelligent, filled with knowledge of the books.
A typical boy, involved in many sports,
Computers, video games, and these of sorts.
As each of your birthdays will come and go,
I long to see how you would thrive and grow.
I never will get to experience this glorious joy,
For our Lord had other plans for you, My Precious Baby Boy!
Cory, Oh Cory, my Dear Little Son,
Your sweet name even means ďthe chosen one.Ē
I hope there is a celebration for you up there,
As another birthday passes that we cannot share.
But, I have my thoughts, my aching heart, and many tears,
As I imagine what could have been for sixteen years.
Copyright © 2004 Cynthia Castle
All Rights Reserved
June 15, 2006
Today, another birthday, eighteen years have gone by,
Since I gave birth to you, held you, and heard your first cry.
Itís hard to believe itís been that long; the years they sure flew.
My son, this would have been such an exciting time for you.
Turning eighteen, completing high school just a few days before.
Now a graduate, a young man with the whole world to explore.
As I was flipping through the television channels the other night,
The High School commencement was airing; I was drawn to this grand sight.
The Class of 2006, this would have been your year.
I could imagine how I would feel, seeing you out there.
I watched and I listened as they called each graduateís name.
Marking a milestone, now their lives will never be the same.
The graduates, with mixed emotions of school days over at last.
Parents, gazing in amazement of how they have grown up so fast.
I saw faces of family members, beaming with pride.
As I quietly watched, feeling so torn apart inside.
Cory, my Sweet Child, another birthday passes again.
Iím left with my thoughts, and my tears that never seem to end.
I visit your grave, and beautiful flowers there I lay.
To honor my Baby, you would have been eighteen today.
Copyright © 2006 Cynthia Castle
All Rights Reserved