My Eldest Son

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  • Love
    • JaytotheDee
    • Don't take life too seriously; No one gets out alive.

    Poem Commentary

    Just wrote this tonight. A few thoughts regarding my three year old son.

    My Eldest Son
    I look at him and see a miniature version of myself
    not his looks but his soul
    completely infuriating at times, though I could'nt love him more
    His bright intellegent eyes
    His inquisitive nature
    His ability to make me smile with just one look
    He is my eldest, my firstborn
    He gives me strength and yet he is my great weakness
    I live for him and yet for him I'd die
    I look at him and see a miniature version of myself
    not his looks but his soul
    completely infuriating at times, though I could'nt love him more
    His bright intellegent eyes
    His inquisitive nature
    His ability to make me smile with just one look
    He is my eldest, my firstborn
    He gives me strength and yet he is my great weakness
    I live for him and yet for him I'd die






    September 29th, 2012
    JD 

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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