A Toast...

A Toast...

I lift a glass
to you my son
as we mark
another one,
now twenty years,
I have seen pass,
each year
moves quicker
than the last.
My tears, well fresh
like mornings dew
of the day
you bid adieu.

To the stars
I cast my eyes
and whisper that
my love belies
these earthly bonds
of time and space;
then close my eyes
and slowly trace
the sweetness of
your angel face,
radiant…full
of heavens grace.

I think of you
each rising sun,
I will until
my days are done.
To you my son
I lift my glass
this mother's love
will never pass.



For my Ryan Patrick
July 14, 1987