My Son

My son is turning four years old today.
He's learned so very much since he's been born.
He feeds himself and plays the day away,
And likes to eat his french fries and his corn.

With each new bruise and scrape my heart skips beats.
A bandaid and a kiss will make him smile.
One look at his broad grin and I'm complete.
I know my heart will be just fine awhile.

I fear that someday hugs won't be enough.
Protecting him from evils all around
Is sure my job, but will it grow too tough?
For now, he loves the hugs, or so I've found.

I'm glad, today, his year is only four.
I've more to learn before he hits a score.