At one, you were having so much fun,
your laugh so loud it always pleased the crowds,
your mother, your brother and me.
At two and three you found out you had knee’s
you’d never walked when you could run,
sometimes when you were having fun,
you’d stumble and your mom would,
hold you, kiss you, scold you and patch you up again.
At four and five you discovered the outside, the fields, the jungle gym and trees
you’d run and laugh and climb above the clouds
and when you found your spot
you’d hang upside down and see what you could see.
At six and seven you thought you were in heaven
with kids at school to fool with
bucks up, kickball and hide and seek
everyday, every week.
At home you had a new friend,
who you could bark with and chase around
and hug and hold forever
At eight and nine it was wheels you found this time
bikes, skateboards, rollerblades and such
if it had wheels, you were in luck
and sometimes when you were having fun,
you’d stumble and your mom would,
hold you, kiss you, scold you and patch you up again,
with some help from the doctors at ER.
At ten and eleven it was basketball, baseball, soccer and football.
It was fast breaks, great catches, awesome defense and studying plays.
It was late night reports with dad and studying with mom, it was a new school and new friends.
At twelve you reached the sky, and saw America’s other side,
redwoods taller than tall itself, Alcatraz and Fisherman’s wharf,
and new walls with fingers and toes to climb,
and now instead of Batman figures and little cars and trucks,
it was pocket knives and climbing gear you desired.
At thirteen the world lies at your feet
new conquests for you to meet
you are a kind and fine young man
all that you seek you will find
if you live each year a day at a time
Dear dan
The poem to your son Touches me alot. I got a soft spot on the father Child relation…..warm thourghts from your danish friend.
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