My Son

A poem written for my son when he became an adult, but is still my little boy.

My Son


Twenty-six and on his own
This blond-haired boy I see
All grown up, but yet, a little boy still to me
That lives in a world that is his alone
From kindergarten to grade school
A happy child was he
He'd bring home all kinds of things
Just so I would smile
High school never finished
A trucker he became
Many lonely hours was always the same
Then one night he met this girl
The woman in his dream
Now the mother of their three
Who walks proudly with these dreams
Two little boys who look like him
Who think that he's all it
A beautiful daughter who's only two
Who can't wait for daddy to come home, too
Many roads he has traveled
Tired as he can be

This man I call my son
Is everything to me

Elizabeth Gassen