Where are your clear blue eyes, my son?
Eyes that ne’er lit up in fun
Beneath a head of tousled curls
Through which, a warm breeze never furls
New tender skin,
Warm heart within
You should have been my special kin
What happened to your youth, my boy?
Your time of innocence and joy
Golden years of rough and tumble
Love and learning all a jumble
My precious lad
It makes me sad
You are the son I never had
The moment all my dreams began
I longed for you, my little man
Fate gave me gorgeous little girls
With bright blue eyes and tousled curls
But time is shorn
My heart forlorn
You, precious child, were never bourne.
Ron
stirred together with love...
a masterpiece!
Sandie